


Eyes

by Metallic_Sweet



Series: Body [6]
Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Family Dynamics, Food Issues, Gen, Literary References & Allusions, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Moral Ambiguity, Power Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-29
Updated: 2015-05-29
Packaged: 2018-04-01 21:38:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4035463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Metallic_Sweet/pseuds/Metallic_Sweet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This world: it's beautiful.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eyes

**a.**

Kanae came to Japan via a cargo ship to Osaka. He remembers being dirty, terrified, and very, very hungry. He had been through three planes, two other ships, and eight different countries. He could sleep only because he was so tired that he couldn't even dream. 

The night the ship docked into Osaka, he turned nine. Kanae wouldn't realise this until several days later, sitting in a locked hotel room where Matsumae presented him with a calendar he could read. He couldn't read Japanese, and his standard German wasn't very good. No one here could speak more than a handful of words in Bavarian. Kanae was, despite finally being under the wing of the Tsukiyama family, his family's closest allies abroad, utterly alone.

"Kanae," Shuu says, "you're pouring coffee on your hand."

He's right. Kanae hisses. Rights the pot and sets it down. He's overflowed the cup and spilt coffee all over his hand, the saucer, and serving tray. Thankfully, it's not too much on the serving tray or it would have gotten onto the table. It's covered with a white lace runner. It is very difficult to get stains out of lace.

Shuu stands up from his desk. Kanae grimaces, shakes his head. Shuu pauses, halfway around his desk.

"It's fine," Kanae says, shuffling with his free hand to pull out a handkerchief.

Shuu stares at him. He's lethargic today, which is why Kanae had brought a late morning coffee. Usually Shuu only takes one in the morning when he wakes up. Some days, they attempt food. Today, food had not been an option. It never is on days where Shuu has to deal with the CCG. 

"Kanae," Shuu says again.

It's gentle in a way that Shuu never used to be. The Shuu that Kanae first fell in love with was a loud, flamboyant, ostentatious teenager. He was healthy, hedonistic, and all the horrible things about being a ghoul rolled up in one very bright, addictive package. Even though Shuu treated him like a nuisance, Kanae had liked him immediately. He was the only remotely pleasant person in the Tsukiyama family that wasn't Matsumae. Kanae fell in love with Shuu before Kanae understood how to fall in love.

"It really is fine," Kanae whispers.

Shuu rounds the desk. Comes to stand beside him. He extends his hand. Kanae lets him take the hand that Kanae had spilt coffee on. Lets Shuu hold him lightly, carefully, looking for damage that isn't there. It lets Kanae look at him. He's wearing an unseasonable red cardigan over a grey cotton turtleneck. His hair is messy. Shuu has partially undone the braid that Matsumae did for his hair. He must have been worrying it.

"What were you thinking about?"

Kanae swallows. Shuu looks at him. He looks tired but calm. There's no rush. It's another thing that's so different from the old Shuu, who was always rushing off somewhere. Kanae had thought he'd never be able to catch up with him. Now, Shuu is here, so very changed. It should make Kanae angry. It should fill him with hate for Sasaki and all the Doves. It should make him resentful of Hinami, who knows what made Shuu like this and profited by it. It should fill Kanae with a desire for revenge and protectiveness. Instead -

"My birthday is coming up."

Shuu smiles. Gentle, warm, and so very loving. It's a smile only Kanae and Hinami own. It makes Kanae's heart ache. It fills him with an adoration that the love he had for the Shuu who once was never did. That Shuu wouldn't have thought anything of leaving him behind. He frequently did. 

This Shuu won't leave Kanae behind. This Shuu loves him.

"It is, isn't it?" Shuu says, and there's a sadness to his gaze that tells Kanae that Shuu knows exactly what Kanae associates with his birthday. "You're coming of age."

If Kanae's family had not been murdered, Kanae would have had his coming of age at fourteen. When Kanae turned fourteen, he'd had that fleeting thought while washing coffee cups and saucers. He would have been able to drink at sixteen, and even as a ghoul that age had seemed to mean something when he was very small. When Kanae actually turned sixteen, he forgot his own birthday, lying next to Shuu on the training room floor, both of them impaled into the concrete and bleeding sluggishly. Kanae spent most of his seventeenth and eighteenth birthdays crying due to stress. Hinami had held his hand on his eighteenth, not knowing why he was crying. He spent his nineteenth playing a series of really poor chess games on the computer, hoping that nothing in real life would go wrong. 

Kanae doesn't care for his birthday at all.

Shuu is still watching him. Kanae senses that quite a lot of time has passed. Slowly, Shuu blinks. He adjusts his hold on Kanae's hand. Entwining their fingers. The Shuu he feel in love with never touched anyone who wasn't prey. This Shuu only touches the people he loves.

"Walk with me," Shuu says.

He says it in such a manner that Kanae knows that he's allowed to refuse. Kanae could never refuse Shuu anything. He never wanted to. He never will.

"Of course," Kanae says, inclining his head, "Shuu-niisan."

 

**i.**

There's music on in the media room. The door has been left partially ajar, which means it's Shuu that's in there.

Hinami pauses in the hallway. It's very rare that they use the media room even though it is outfitted with up-to-date video and audio technology as of four years ago. It was apparently Shuu's father's hobby, which explains why Shuu sometimes fails to acknowledge the room even exists. For Shuu to use the room means that there isn't any other option on the estate. He must be watching the videotapes Washuu sent with Sasaki's letter.

Hinami takes a deep breath. She turns, takes a couple of steps, and slides carefully into the dim room. There is a very wide leather couch, but Shuu is sitting on the floor. He's sitting like Kanae does when he thinks he's alone, his knees drawn up to his chest and chin resting atop the bone. Unusual for these days, he doesn't look to her. There's no indication he's noticed her coming in. He stares through his hair at the screen, which shows a woman at a pianoforte. Hinami bites her lip. The recording is entirely of Shuu's mother.

"He must have put a rig in the orchestra," Shuu says, barely audible.

Very carefully, Hinami sits on the ground. Shuu doesn't take his eyes off the screen. Sumire plays, her eyes on the music. There is no hesitation in her movements, her fingers and body moving with the music as if the pianoforte is an extension of her. Her hair is bound up into a bun with a gold hair comb. Her build is tall and thin with enticing hints of shape. She was twenty-four when this performance took place, fluid and beguiling. She was in full bloom. This, Hinami thinks, is what people see when they look at Shuu.

Shuu coughs. It's dry, but it finishes in a tight wheeze. Hinami reaches out and places her hand on his back. Rubs in small circles. Shuu turns his head slightly, looking at her through his hair.

"You shouldn't sit like this," Hinami says. "It compresses your chest."

Shuu doesn't move. Hinami didn't really expect him to. There's an odd light in his eyes, although that could just be a reflection of the television screen. With that as the only light source, it casts odd shadows over everything.

"She died at twenty-seven," he says, very softly.

Shuu rarely talks about his family. Kanae and Matsumae don't explain, and even after four years, Hinami knows very little about the intricacies of the Tsukiyama family. She lived in fear of Kamiko and Asahi. Sumire and Kosei were dead. It makes her think of her parents, who held her close until they couldn't. It used to make her angry. Now it just makes her sad.

Next to her, Shuu breathes in. It's audible. A thin wheeze. His fingers twist his hair where it pools around his feet.

"I'm twenty-six."

They say it constantly: Shuu looks like his mother. Kamiko said it was lucky, but Kamiko said it like a curse. There is no room for sentimentality in this world. Shuu watched his mother die. A suicide. Hinami searches Shuu's gaze, trying to find what he's telling her. He isn't empty like she believed him to be for two and a half years. 

He's bereft. There's an open wound that never should have been acknowledged. It cannot heal.

Sumire plays the pianoforte on the screen. She moves deftly but flourishingly just like her son.

Hinami thinks she understands.

"Shuu-niisan," Hinami says, very gently, "turn the television off."

 

**0.**

There was a second and final letter that came at the beginning of May. It's the most recent letter that Shuu received from Sasaki. It's written on the back of several pieces of used printer paper and stuffed into an envelope provided by the post. Shuu suspects it will likely be the last letter in their English exchange.

    Dear Mr. Shuu Tsukiyama,

    You didn't reply to my last letter, and I thank you for that. My superiors have not been pleased with me recently for reasons I'm quite sure you understand. I'm sorry for putting you in this position. I trust you understand not to reply to this one either. Everything I said in my last letter is true. I don't play games, and I've decided not to lie to you. You don't need more lies.

    I've been thinking a lot about our last encounter. I was selfish and hasty. I heard from Ms. Mado that you've not been well lately. It matches what I thought I tasted. Being what I am, I taste differently. More acutely, I guess. I'm sorry if this disturbs you, but I think you have a strong heart despite your ill health. 

    You tasted like you were ill. It's a sort of sour, stale taste. It was unpleasant. You also tasted of something else. If I'm right, then you know what I'm referring to. You may wonder then, why I haven't said anything. Or maybe you know why, and you were depending on me holding my tongue. I think it's the latter. I will admit: I'm angry about that. But I made my choice. I kissed you. I know that that's what made you ill. 

    You weren't afraid of the ghoul. You weren't afraid of me. You weren't afraid of the danger that we were in or the danger of what you are. You can protect yourself against all of that. I know what you are afraid of, though. You're afraid of love. That is what has hurt you the most. I can't change that. 

    None of this changes what I said before. My feelings, which make me selfish and hasty, remain the same. You have never lied to me. I will not lie to you.

    I love you.

    Yours truly,  
Haise Sasaki

Shuu set the letter on the breakfast tray. He was still bedridden in early May, although the coughing fits had decreased in frequency. A curious sense of nothingness settled over him. It was different from the dim, muted world he usually lived in. It was, he knew, a strange sort of acceptance.

Kaneki hated and mistrusted him. Shuu loved him. That was Shuu's fault.

Sasaki loves and trusts him. 

"Matsumae."

She looked at him from the foot of the bed. "Yes?"

Shuu picked up the letter. Held it out. Matsumae came around the side of the bed to take it. In his youth, Shuu used to scream for her when he was afraid. She always came.

"Burn this and all the other letters."

Matsumae inclined her head. Turned and walked out the door. Shuu watched her go. Listened to her even footsteps down the hall. 

Sasaki loves and trusts him. Shuu would, too, if he could. But he can't. Shuu loves Kaneki, but Kaneki is dead and buried inside of Sasaki. Shuu has his family. Matsumae, Kanae, and Hinami depend on him. Sasaki is a liability. A timebomb. A walking corpse that could rot away at any time and expose them all to danger. Shuu must prevent this by any means possible.

This is Shuu's fault, too. 

 

**ii.**

Kanae spends a lot of time outside now that it's summer. Occasionally, he sits with Shuu while Shuu feeds the koi, which Shuu does like clockwork before the sun becomes too strong. At first, Kanae and Hinami would go out to sit with Shuu because there was a very real part of both of them that feared Shuu would attempt to drown himself. Nowadays, it seems Shuu simply likes to feed the fish. Hinami overhears him talking to the koi sometimes, short, self-aware conversations. She has wondered recently if it might be beneficial to get Shuu a pet. A dog or a cat. He needs companionship. He spends too much time these days inside of his own head.

Most of the time, Kanae gardens, weeding the flower beds and carefully tending the ground cover. He's taken over responsibility of planting the seasonal flowers and upkeeping them. He wears long sleeves, jeans, and a sunhat as well as protective covering for his hands to keep the sun off his skin as much as possible. It looks more than a little silly, and he gets terribly sweaty fairly quickly. Hinami takes water out to him if he remains outside for more than an hour, keeping an umbrella up to keep the sun off herself.

"A pet?" Kanae asks incredulously as he measures out fertiliser.

Hinami nods. Kanae's face screws up as he thinks about it. The hand holding open the fertiliser bag fiddles absently, creating faint crinkling noises under his gardening glove. His expression evens out after a moment, a combination of uncertainty and apprehension.

"He," Kanae starts, a bit haltingly, "used to like cats. And dogs, I suppose." 

He looks down. His gaze is on the fertilizer. He doesn't see it. Hinami waits. Kanae sits. Physically, he's there, but mentally he's somewhere completely different. It's like when they lived in that apartment in the 5th Ward and Kanae would stare at kitchen appliances. It's different from Shuu, whose mind turns inwards in dark, jagged spirals. Hinami used to think Kanae had internalised too much of Shuu. While he has in many ways, it isn't the case in these moments. 

"I," he says, "had a dog."

He begins to sprinkle the fertiliser. Small, light rocking motions with his wrist. Hinami watches him blink, a few, slow motions. He's only wearing sunscreen. The shadows under his eyes are easy to see.

"A little Phalène," he says, and there's a slur to his words, making him difficult to understand. "I named her Bibi. There was a cartoon. She -"

He stops. Stares somewhere faraway. Hinami waits. She thinks about how Kanae hums along with his violin sometimes. He plays in the evenings nowadays, if Shuu sits at the piano. Shuu doesn't play, although sometimes Hinami can see him miming the motion on his knees. Neither of them need sheet music. Once in a while, though, Kanae plays songs that neither she nor Shuu recognise. They're usually simple tunes, just melody lines, but sometimes more complex. 

Kanae stirs himself. He sets the scoop back in the fertilizer bag. Pulls off his gloves and sets them aside. His hands are shaking. He clasps them in his lap. He sits so properly, just like Matsumae and Shuu. Straight-baked and rigid. Like paintings. It's unnatural.

"Kanae-niisan."

He looks to her. There are tears in his eyes. He smiles, tremulous and watery. He breathes in, a wet, thin sob.

"Today's my real birthday."

Despite herself, this surprises Hinami. She had thought that Kanae's birthday was next month in August. It's July 4th. Kanae laughs, reaching up and rubbing his eyes. Hinami reaches into her skirt, pulling out a handkerchief. She holds it out, and he accepts it. Wipes his hands. His eyes and face. He's sweating in the heat. Hinami is starting to feel uncomfortably hot, too.

"Happy birthday."

Kanae laughs again. It's a sharp, ugly sound. He doesn't laugh very often. None of them do.

It is a very warm day.

 

**b.**

Bunko, when it's just Kanae or Shuu, sits in agura.

It bothers Kanae. He knows it shouldn't, which is why he hasn't said anything. Bunko is the head of her house like Shuu and can sit how she wants. Shuu, for whatever reason, chooses to sit properly nowadays. He never used to, but Shuu isn't the person he once was. Kanae knows, too, that Bunko wouldn't care if Kanae sat improperly or even if he chose to lie on the ground. In a lot of ways, Bunko cares the least about propriety out of everyone that Kanae knows.

Bunko sips her coffee, studying the chess board. They are playing in the main room as Kanae only recently got around to throwing out the cushions in the private sitting room and hasn't decided on new ones. To the side, Shuu is sitting in the path of the sun, reading a book. As Bunko and Kanae are only engaged and not yet married, Shuu is supposed to be observing them to make sure nothing untoward happens. This is more than faintly ridiculous, but protocol is protocol. Shuu has apparently decided to use this time to catch up on pleasure reading. The way he's holding the book obscures the title, but Kanae can clearly see the dragon and castle spire on the front cover. 

"Shuu," Bunko says, drawing Kanae's attention back to watch her move her pawn, "have you decided whether or not to renew the CCG research contract?"

Shuu makes a toneless noise. Kanae studies the board. Bunko has opened up her a1 rook for her first move. Kanae frowns. What a waste of white's advantage. The most logical move is to put his pawn to e5 and control the center. Bunko must know this. Kanae drums his fingers on his knees. 

"If you haven't," Bunko says, and she's watching Kanae, who resolutely doesn't look directly at her or Shuu, "you should ask them for something."

Something. Everyone in the room knows exactly what she's implying. Shuu turns a page in his book, fairly noisily. Kanae, already annoyed, decides to take control. He moves his pawn to e5.

"Sasaki-san isn't stupid."

Kanae snorts. Bunko smiles, toothy like a skull. She takes a sip of her coffee before setting it down on the saucer by her right knee. She picks up her a2 knight, waving it at Shuu mockingly.

"Sasaki-san isn't some princess waiting for her knight," she says, and Kanae has to restrain himself from reaching out and snatching away the piece before she flicks it at Shuu. "And you're no knight."

Kanae studiously does not look at Shuu. He doesn't want Shuu to see how much he agrees with what Bunko is saying right now. Shuu loves Kaneki Ken, but that person is dead. No matter what that Sasaki Haise says or does, it's never going to be the love that Shuu wants or deserves.

Bunko puts the knight back on a2. She moves her other knight to f3, challenging Kanae's pawn. Shuu closes his book, putting it down in his lap. It makes both Kanae and Bunko look at him. He gazes back.

"My head isn't in the clouds."

He says it in a flat tone. It's not the same as the one that he uses when he's being serious in business or public social settings. It's flat and unadorned and very, very resigned. It reminds Kanae of how Shuu used to say true things only when he was sulking. Nowadays, Shuu doesn't sulk. He would need a large positive range of emotions for that. 

Bunko smiles. It reminds Kanae of the worst nights after his family were killed when he hid in the Munich ghoul tunnels. They ran parallel to the city's sewer system and U-Bahn. There were a lot of skulls down there, human and ghoul, remains of meals and the disenfranchised. Kanae ate the rotting flesh, human and ghoul tasting the same. By the time Matsumae found him to set him on the first of the identity laundering journeys that ate up his eighth year, he had been underground for more than two months. He was more monster by then than anything else. 

"No," Bunko agrees.

Kanae wonders, often when he looks at Hinami or hears about Kaneki Ken, if he might have been like them if it wasn't for those two months. If he would be a pacifist, gentle and warm at heart. If he would be the type of person that Shuu could love as more than a sibling. But Kanae isn't like that. He doesn't want to be like that. 

Shuu looks at him. Kanae looks back.

"It's your turn."

Shuu trusts him. In this world of monsters, that is more valuable than love.

 

**iii.**

"Matsumae."

The obi tightens at Hinami's waist. It's a muted blue. Hinami wonders if Matsumae is going to make a taiko musubi or something more complex. 

"Yes?"

It's sunrise. They have to be into the 10th Ward by late morning to attend the fifth birthday party of Ichinose Akira and Sara's son, Makoto. Hinami is not looking forward to this. She's never met any of the Ichinose family aside for Shuichi, but Shuichi will be there, and that's enough to make Hinami dread the entire day. It doesn't help that it is a large affair, which means that there will be both ghouls and humans in attendance. Someone from the Washuu family will likely be crawling around, too.

"Is this," she asks, and she can hear the tremor in her voice clearly, "better than it used to be?"

Matsumae stops. Hinami looks at her in the mirror. She's looking down. Her left hand rests on Hinami's back, holding the short end of the obi in place. Her right is covered by the longer end of the obi. Although her expression is impassive, there's a depth to her eyes. A knowing.

"Yes," she says, starting again on the musubi, "and no."

Hinami looks down. At her hands. Her nails are painted a pleasant pale pink. They match the irises that decorate her kimono.

"Why?" Matsumae asks.

It makes Hinami look up. It's unusual for Matsumae to ask a question. Matsumae matches her gaze in the mirror. She waits, patiently. Hinami swallows.

"There's a lot of things," Hinami says, very lowly, "that I don't know."

Matsumae's expression softens. It's rare that Hinami sees Matsumae direct such a look at anyone but Shuu. It makes Matsumae look older, probably closer to her real age. The bland remoteness she wears is an all-purpose mask, hiding not just her opinions but making it difficult to draw any sort of impression of her. Matsumae is an expert at fading into the background. A perfect household servant.

"You weren't born here," Matsumae says, and Hinami realises that it isn't bland at all; it's her way of being kind. "You are not expected to."

Hinami bites her lip. Matsumae looks down, working on the musubi. Fabric moves against fabric. Folding. Looping. A chouchou musubi. The CCG call her Butterfly. A ghoul that perches on the edge of the action and observes. 

That's not who she is.

Hinami catches Matsumae's eyes in the mirror. 

"Tell me," she says, very firmly, "about Sumire-san."

 

**0.**

Hinami is angry.

She stands in the doorway, hands clenched at her sides. Shuu sits at the vanity. Kanae is half in and half out of the wardrobe. His eyes are wide and confused. Matsumae isn't here, so it must be something do with that. 

Shuu breathes in. 

"Yes?"

Hinami swallows. There's colour high on her cheeks. Shuu can smell the anger and betrayal rolling off her in waves. There's other notes to it. Frustration, self-hatred, sympathy, sadness. A blossoming, unravelling grief. Shuu breathes out.

"You're related to the Washuu family."

Shuu shuts his eyes. Hinami breathes in, deep and harsh. He listens to her cross the room. She stops a pace from him. Shuu opens his eyes. Her eyes track his, searching. Horrified. Desperate.

"You, Ichinose, Minamoto, Washuu," she says, voice trembling, cracking. "You're all related."

Behind him, Shuu hears Kanae shut the wardrobe. Hinami glances over at him. Her lips part briefly and then purse. She bites her bottom lip. It's already red. Kanae's expression must have given away how much he knows. Hinami looks back to Shuu. She looks ready to cry.

"Why?" she asks, high and wavering. "Why didn't you tell me?"

She starts to lift her hand. Stops herself. It was for Shuu's shoulder. She's gotten used to touching him. Comforting him. Caring about, for, and with him. Shuu lifts his hand. Catches hers. Twines their fingers together. She doesn't grasp back. He didn't expect her to.

"I'm not related to the Washuu or the Minamoto by blood."

"But they _know_ ," Hinami says, voice rising as she returns his grasp, hard and with all her strength. "They know you're a _ghoul_." 

Shuu nods. Hinami's pupils are blown. She is very close to losing control. The only thing likely holding her back are the years she has spent in this house. By Shuu's side. 

"I'm sorry."

Hinami squeezes his hand so hard Shuu feels his bones creak. "They know about you but not about me. Not about Kanae. We're adopted. You -" and she swallows, tears welling up, "You -"

Shuu is selfish. He had hoped not to have to tell her. To put it off for as long as possible. It was better that way, he'd thought. It would help her stay cautious, stay safe. Shuu has never been cautious enough. He's never been able to keep anyone safe. 

"Your mother -" Hinami says, voice waving, "she got exposed. She and Washuu were caught in -" and she chokes on it, can't say it, not aloud. "Someone found out she was a ghoul."

Fabric falls. Kanae makes a faint sound. That happened before Kanae came. Even for their world, cruel as it is, Sumire's death was heinous. The ghost in everyone's hearts. Shuu shuts his eyes. It's a mistake. He can see his mother behind his eyelids, clear as day. She was sitting in the bath. She had a long knife in hand. Quinque steel. Kamiko had covered his mouth. Let him bite her hand. It was as kind as his grandmother ever got.

It was the first time that Shuu saw someone choose death.

"I know."

He had known when the quinque had been delivered because it stank up the entire estate. He had a keen nose. He could smell it. He had known for weeks, ever since the end of summer. He hadn't needed to have particularly good hearing to overhear the arguments, the screaming, shouting, sobbing. It was his mother's idea, her decision. It would remove all stains, all future mistakes. Washuu and her: they loved each other, but there was no place for love, not in this world.

He opens his eyes. Hinami is crying. Quiet, silent tears. Shuu reaches up with his free hand. Cups her face. Hinami shuts her eyes. Whimpers.

"They said it was better that way," and Shuu doesn't have to keep the bitterness out of his tone. "It was easy to make the orchestra conductor who was threatening to talk disappear. I think they used him to feed prisoners in Cochlea. It was easy to make her death appear unfortunate. I don't think Washuu Yoshitoki agreed. But it was his fault, too, so his opinion didn't matter." 

Hinami stares at him. Her mouth is open. She doesn't smell angry. Shuu doesn't recognise what she smells like. It makes him nervous. It makes him keep talking.

"I think my family had been waiting for an opportunity like that. Mother was the last of her house. With her death, this family absorbed all of her assets. It's why we are the wealthiest of the four families and why we have the legal connections."

It's also why the Washuu family can never be rid of the Tsukiyama. It's not simply an issue of money nor access to an expedited legal process. Shuu and Matsumae know too much, and now Hinami and Kanae do, too. No one can expose the other without exposing themselves. Shuu was selfish. Shuu grieved. Grieves. It makes it hard to talk about. So he doesn't. Not unless he has to.

It's very quiet. It's very still. Hinami stares at him. She looks shattered. Shuu swallows.

"I'm sorry."

Hinami shakes her head. Grips his hand again. She reaches up and catches the one he has on her face. Holds that, too. 

"No," she says, wavering but sure. "It's not your fault. You didn't do that."

Shuu feels his mouth open. Hinami shakes her head. Shakes his hands. Colour flushes her cheeks bright red.

"You're not," she says, "responsible for that."

Shuu stares. His mouth is open, catching flies. Hinami sniffs, her eyes bright and wild, but her face set. Firm.

"You should have told me that the Washuu family knows about you and Matsumae but not me and Kanae. You should have told me that sort of thing because I need to know. But what happened before: that wasn't your fault."

Shuu stares. Hinami stares back. She breathes in. Squeezes his hands. There.

"Live."

 

**iv.**

They're running late.

It isn't surprising. Considering what the early morning turned into, Hinami finds it surprising that they managed to pull themselves together at all. Shuu has a vague expression. His eyes are have difficulty focusing. Drifting in and out of the past and the present. Kanae looks like he's about to explode or start crying. He's given into old habits and is chewing his nails. Hinami herself feels raw and would like nothing better than to just lie down. Put her head on Shuu's chest or sit in the garden or kitchen with Kanae. 

Matsumae keeps glancing at all of them. To the side for Shuu in the passenger seat and through the rear view mirror for Kanae and Hinami. They need to pull themselves together. Hinami doubts this is going to happen.

Matsumae pulls to a stop at the traffic light. She breathes in.

"Should I call and cancel?"

Shuu breathes in audibly. It's more a wheeze than a breath. He grimaces, reaching up and rubbing over his chest. The wound that won't heal. 

"No," he says, strained. "Everyone will be there."

He shuffles with the drawstring bag in his lap. Pulls out a handkerchief. He folds it into a square before pressing it to his mouth. He's looking straight forward, out the window at the cars. He looks pained, but he isn't coughing nor does he look as vague as he did before. Hinami wonders, not for the first time, if Shuu has started to use pain as a grounding mechanism.

Next to her, Kanae pulls his hand out away from his mouth. Laces his fingers together in his lap. He swallows, looking out the window. 

Hinami breathes out. Closes her eyes. 

In some ways, nothing has changed at all.

 

**c.**

Why do people have children?

It's a selfish thought, Kanae knows, but he can't help but have it. The Ichinose estate is in full celebration, people both human and ghoul steaming in and out with well-wishes. It's not as well attended as a first birthday celebration would be, but five is a good age in everyone's estimation. Ichinose Makoto just looks terrified. He keeps reaching back to cling to his mother or his father, who automatically push him away. So, the boy stands there, trying to smile, trying to do what he's been told to and say his pleasantries, but he's overwhelmed and terrified. No one really cares about him. This is to see and be seen, a social dance that Makoto won't be able to understand for a while yet. It's not about him at all.

Next to him, Shuu hums. "Brings back memories, doesn't it."

Kanae glances at him. They're standing a little to the side by a raised conversation table, coffees in hand. Shuu is looking at Makoto. His gaze is dull and listless. Kanae looks back. The boy is trying to smile and thank an elderly human couple, but Kanae can tell he's stuttering. His parents look pleasant, encouraging. They smell deeply annoyed.

"Yes," Kanae says.

In comparison to what Shuu is likely thinking of, though, Kanae doesn't think his family was particularly bad. He remembers not enjoying the birthday parties, but there was a private part of them that he had enjoyed. His parents would hug him at the start and end of the day. Kanae doesn't remember being forced to stand and greet like Makoto is and Shuu likely was. He has firmer memories of a train set from when he was five and a wood and leather drum when he was seven. There weren't any children his age, but that isn't uncommon in ghoul upper-class society. His family also didn't mix humans and ghouls, so Kanae remembers lots of food. He got to have his favourite: grilled biceps with reduced blood sauce.

Kanae's stomach growls. Shuu blinks, turning his head to look at Kanae. Concerned. Kanae feels his face heat.

"I'm not hungry."

Shuu studies him. Kanae isn't lying. He ate a week ago and generally Kanae doesn't need to eat substantially more than every two weeks. He can't help that thinking about his favourite food makes his body react. 

Shuu is still staring at him. Kanae's face burns. He looks away, searching for Hinami and Matsumae. They're talking to several women, both ghoul and human. They're all Matsumae's age and Matsumae is speaking. Hinami's expression is polite, but Kanae tell her eyes are slightly glazed. 

"Should we rescue -"

"Shuu-kun, Kanae-kun, so glad that you could make it."

Kanae has to bite his tongue to resist rolling his eyes skyward. Ichinose Shuichi has finally made his appearance. Kanae turns his attention back just in time to witness Shuichi's gaze sweep upward over Shuu. Shuu smiles, soft, sweet, and utterly sincere. He looks very happy. Anyone who actually knows Shuu is well aware of this lie.

"My congratulations on your grandson's fifth birthday, Shuichi," Shuu murmurs.

"May he have many more," Kanae says, making sure to incline his head.

"Thank you," Shuichi grins, and he shows his teeth, awfully informal of a ghoul. "He's such an adorable little thing, isn't he? Not much in the guts department, though."

It sets off alarm bells in Kanae's head. He resists the urge to look back at Makoto. Next to him, Shuu hums lightly. His smile is unchanging.

"Children's natures aren't set in stone."

Shuichi laughs, a full, booming sound. It might sound merry if Kanae didn't know him. It undoubtedly makes some of other people around them look over.

"Nurture is key," Shuichi agrees. 

He reaches out to clap Shuu on the shoulder. It makes an audible thump even through Shuu's layers of kimono. Shuu doesn't move at all. Despite his physical condition, there's strength to Shuu's body. It might not be what he had as the Gourmet, but it's there. Shuichi's hand rests where it landed. Kanae concentrates on restraining himself enough to not knock it off.

"Doesn't it make you think," Shuichi says, eyes intent, "what your own will be like?"

Kanae's blood freezes. Shuu smiles, a little wider. His eyes look calm. They're an abyss.

"What a strange thought," Shuu says, and he lifts his hand, passing the tips of his fingers over his lower lip. "It -"

There's a chorus of raised voices at the front gate. They all turn towards it. Kanae inhales, a sour scent of rot drifting in the air. Quinque. The wind is coming from the west, where the Ichinose estate's front gate is. Kanae's hands clench. He grits his teeth. His heart claws up his throat.

_Bibi! What are you barking -_

"Ah," Shuichi says, and he sounds so very pleased, "you'll enjoy this, Shuu-kun. Our investments are going to give us a little show."

 

**v.**

There are Doves carrying quinque at the gate.

The entire party has come to a pause. People are looking around, humans in confusion, ghouls in the direction of the voices. Several people dressed in suits come out of the main house and head towards the gate. They must be Ichinose servants. They're a mixture of humans and ghouls. Hinami holds her purse tightly. She has to resist the urge to look at Matsumae, who is silent next to her, or to look about for Shuu or Kanae. Across from her, there's a short, sharp huff.

"Oh, really!" Ichinose Hiroko says, frowning in a pink glossy pout. "Whatever is Chichi thinking?"

What, Hinami wants to ask, but the sinking feeling is already starting. Shuu had said everyone would be here. Did he know?

Hiroko sighs, a much louder huff. "Honestly," she says, put upon and angry. "Chichi and his games! _Excuse_ me -"

She stomps past Hinami and Matsumae. It's an excuse to turn around. She's heading for where Shuichi is standing with Shuu and Kanae. Shuichi has a hand on Shuu's shoulder. Hinami glances at Matsumae, who is looking over, too. Matsumae catches her eye and blinks. Hinami turns back to the other two ladies, who are human and have dual expressions of confusion, bows and mutters a soft apology, and hurries as sedately as possible after Hiroko.

"Chichi!" 

Hinami draws up alongside Hiroko just in time to have to jerk out of her way as she slaps Shuichi's hand off of Shuu's shoulder. Shuu blinks, looking at Hiroko like he's never seen her before. He looks placid and calm, which means he doesn't know what's going on. Kanae catches her eye, communicating with a perfectly blank face that he's about to start panicking. Shuichi just grins, like a cat that got the cream. Hinami wants to slap him, too. 

"Today's supposed to be about Makoto!" Hiroko hisses, stepping forward until her face is barely an inch away from Shuichi's. "The boy is _five_ -"

"Now, now," Shuichi says, placating, condescending, "that's more than old enough to learn a bit about the world." 

Shuu blinks. It's all the warning that Hinami knows she's going to get. Hinami reaches out to take Kanae's wrist. Shuu opens his mouth.

"You have a ghoul shipment for them."

Shuichi grins. Wide lips, white teeth. He reaches out with the hand that was on Shuu's shoulder and pats him on the hip. If Shuu was a woman, it would be obscene. Hiroko's face twists in disgust. Shuu doesn't react at all. Shuichi laughs. 

Shuichi leers before winking. "Hurry up and have children so you can have some fun, too."

The day Shuu has children, the sky will fall, Hinami privately thinks. Kanae is vibrating under her hand, dangerously close to flying out of his own skin. Hiroko opens his mouth.

"Ichinose-sama."

It's a human in a black suit. An Ichinose servant. Shuichi turns to him. Hinami takes the opportunity to look at Kanae. He's very pale and his breathing is shallow. Hinami shifts her hold to take his hand. She slips their fingers together, giving Kanae an excuse to hold her. Shuu's gaze drifts down to the movement very briefly before returning to Shuichi and the servant. Even if Shuu wanted to reach out, it is not possible. His station is not one that allows comfort.

"Is a Washuu with them?"

The servant inclines his head. "I'm sorry that the situation became heated. It appears that Washuu Matsuri-san did not inform his team that there was a party. They alarmed the Phillipeths."

Kanae squeezes Hinami's hand so hard that he might break it.

Shuichi tsks, shaking his head. "Yoshitoki-kun really needs to get a better handle on that boy," he says, shaking his head. "Thirty-one and still so reckless. Let them in and apologise to the Phillipeths for the confusion." 

The servant bows, hurrying back to the gate. Shuichi turns back to Shuu, completely ignoring Hiroko, who was about to interject. 

"At least one of you calmed down," he says, and thankfully he doesn't touch Shuu because even Hinami has a limit to how much she can take. "I must apologise, though. I need a favour."

Shuu tilts his head slightly. His hair is done in a waterfall braid. With the angle he holds his head at, it gives the impression of sliding.

"Ask."

 

**0.**

There are Doves in the room below them, securing drugged ghouls for transport. They will be taken to Cochlea or, if they wake and die in transport, they'll be taken straight to the laboratories in the 1st Ward. Kagune, kakuhou, and potential organs for transplant will be harvested.

Shuu sips his coffee. Ichinose Shuichi and Akira are drinking blood wine. Everyone else has been served coffee except for Makoto, who is sitting to the left of his mother. A tiny, terrified statue who listens to the conversation between Shuichi and Matsuri with humongous eyes. Shuu feels sorry for the boy. He knows what he feels like. He is very glad that he was able to send Kanae and Hinami home. A pace behind him, Matsumae sits quietly. Shuu wishes that she was allowed to sit next to him.

"If I'd known there was going to be a party," Matsuri grumbles, "I'd have put it off for tomorrow."

He wouldn't have, Shuu knows. Matsuri doesn't care about anyone but himself. He has an awful record of deaths under his command, which is why he's regulated to dirty work like this in the first place. Tsuneyoshi is in no rush to retire or die because he doesn't trust his son or grandson to run the CCG or the Washuu family properly. Yoshitoki is too soft; Matsuri is too hard. The hopes of the Washuu family are pinned on Matsuri's wife producing something more balanced come spring.

Shuu wishes that he could stomach blood wine.

"I'm certain Yoshitoki-kun would have mentioned it," Shuichi says lightly, insultingly, before shrugging. "But no matter. The sooner such unpleasant creatures are out of my home, the better."

Was I this bad, Shuu thinks dully. Was this what he really used to think of others? The weak die and the strong survive. He used to believe that. Now, Shuu is weak. But he's still here. 

"Shuu-kun, what do you think?" 

Shuu sets his coffee down. The furisode swish lightly over his lap, the tatami. He places his hands back in his lap. When he looks up, Matsuri is staring at him, openly surprised. It gives Shuu the stall the he needs. He smiles. His mother's smile. Soft, sweet, and very, very sincere.

"Matsuri-kun, it's been a long time."

Matsuri blinks, looking at him closely for the first time. He notices Matsumae. An almost comical look of surprise falls over his face. He looks for a brief moment like the boy that Shuu pushed into the pond. 

"Shuu-kun?"

The two agents with him look surprised at this reaction. It doesn't really surprise Shuu, who doesn't recognise himself half the time. Shuu doesn't recognise these agents, which means that he'll need to contact Chie when this is over. They're young, likely just out of the academy, but for them to be trusted with such a dirty end of the CCG, they're probably the classic combination of ambitious, skilled, and impatient. Shuu wonders if they know that this makes them the most disposable.

Shuu inclines his head. "It's been a long time."

"You -" and Matsuri pauses, clearly rethinking what he was about to say; Shuu has a fairly good hunch as to what it was. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to wish Makoto-kun a happy birthday."

There's a very awkward pause. Shuu is very used to generating awkward pauses. Shuichi, as expected, breaks it with a laugh. Shuu keeps his gaze on Matsuri, but he can see Makoto out of the corner of his eye. He's about to cry. Poor boy.

"Shuu-kun grew up really well," Shuichi says, eyes crinkling. "He's agreed to be our legal authority for today's matter."

Shuu inclines his head slightly. "I doubt there's any need for me, but a Tsukiyama never turns down a favour asked."

Technically, Shuu still has a year until he finishes his law degree, but this is more a formality than anything else. He doesn't want to be here, but it is useful to be. This is the type of world he was born into, the world that gave him the ability to protect Hinami and Kanae. It is the world he must live in. Shuu knew this the moment Asahi put his kagune through his back.

Matsuri frowns, discomforted. Shuu hasn't seen Matsuri since he was twelve and Matsuri seventeen. Before Matsuri murdered the Roswald family. One day, if Shuu can move the pieces properly, he'll make Matsuri pay.

Beneath them, there's a loud thumping sound. Everyone looks down. It's followed by a very loud, very high screech. The scent of ghoul blood. Someone must have woken up and tried to fight. Good for them, Shuu thinks.

There's another noise, young and terrified. Makoto. Shuu looks up just in time to see that Makoto has started crying. Eyes screwed shut. His mother has turned to him already, her expression thunderous. Makoto's eyes are shut so he can't see the warning. Shuu has already looked up. He can't look away.

"Sorry for the disturbance," Ichinose Sara says as she scoops up Makoto. "Excuse us."

She carries the wailing boy out of the room, sliding the door shut behind her. It bounces slightly on the frame, leaving it cracked open.

"Stupid boy -"

The sound of another door. The wailing stops. There's a dangerous feeling of unreality creeping in. Shuu picks up his coffee. He happens to catch sight of one of the agents. His eyes are the size of saucers. He looks absolutely horrified. Shuu has the absolutely bizarre idea that he should reach out and pat him on the shoulder. There there.

Shuichi clears his throat. For once, he's not smiling. The atmosphere is deeply uncomfortable. Shuu lifts his coffee to his lips. Sips it. It tastes like sludge. 

Shuu is used to that.

 

**vi.**

"We don't get what we want," Hinami once overheard Bunko say. "We're _ghouls_."

Hinami is sitting on the couch in the room they usually play chess in. Kanae lies with his head on her lap, staring off into nothing. Hinami cards her fingers through his hair, occasionally stopping to press her hand lightly to the side of his neck or cheek like she's seen Shuu do. His breathing is shallow but slow. It's warm, but Hinami has pulled the throw over Kanae for the extra, comforting weight. He's curled his fingers in it, tucking it up against his chest.

When Hinami was a little girl, before all the things that have come to pass passed, she slept in the same bed as her parents. It was less because she wanted to and more because they didn't have another bed. It was a futon, just wide enough to fit all three of them. Hinami slept between her mother and father, often with her back tucked against her father's chest and her face burrowed against her mother's shoulder. Her father would hum sometimes if Hinami was fitful, old folk tunes that Hinami has never quite figured out the words to.

She tells Kanae this as the sun begins to move low in the sky. She isn't sure if Kanae is listening, but that's not the point. Kanae deserves some time for himself. He drove them back after Shuu set them away. It was the right thing for Shuu to do, considering what a terrible trick Shuichi had decided to play. Hinami had been afraid that Kanae would freak out in the car and they would crash. Of course, they would both probably survive, but it wouldn't have been a pleasant experience. Kanae hadn't, though, had held it together until they were back in these walls, in this unchanging, unmovable place. It shows how much he can handle. It shows how much he views this as home.

It reminds her, she finds herself rambling, of Kaneki. With Shuu, Kaneki is still a fairly taboo subject as Shuu is not able to handle emotions in a remotely healthy manner. Kanae hates Kaneki, but it's alright to talk about him. So, Hinami finds herself rambling about how Kaneki was, in the long ago before. A big brother with a kindness so great, who protected with all of his heart, but who kept everything inside and wouldn't let anyone build him a home. 

"I wanted to," she says, stroking Kanae's cheek absently. "So did Shuu-niisan. But he wouldn't let us. That wasn't what precious people meant to him."

"He's a fool," Kanae says.

His voice is weak. The accent he usually suppresses is very heavy. Hinami lifts her hand slightly so that Kanae can roll over onto his back. Look up at her. He hasn't cried, but his mascara has smudged slightly under his left eye.

"Food," Kanae says. "Water. Shelter. Then clothing. Education. Sanitation. Healthcare. It doesn't matter if you're ghoul or human. Those are what you need to survive."

Hinami rests her hand on his chest. Kanae slips a hand out from under the blanket. They curl their fingers together.

"Shuu-sama," and he's still upset if he's slipping back into that mode of address, "did his first degree in Social Welfare."

Hinami knows this. She remembers Shuu with his accounting course books. She remembers, too, Shuu sometimes would watch the news. He was usually the one to flip the television to a news programme; Kaneki was the only other who did so on a regular basis. Shuu didn't comment on what happened in news reports, unlike everyone else in that house that was almost a home. Everyone else thought that Shuu didn't care, but Hinami knew even then that Shuu didn't pay attention to things he didn't care about. Shuu paid a lot of attention to reports on healthcare issues and natural disasters.

"He cares," Kanae says, with no small amount of grief, "about those things."

It would be easier if he didn't. If Shuu, like Kanae, limited himself. In a lot of way, Hinami thinks sadly, Kanae is the perfect inheritor of this world. What he cares about is limited, but his dedication is total. He protects his own interests with everything that he has. It makes him cruel, harsh, and unlikeable. It fills him with hatred. But to those he has taken into his heart, he is infinitely kind.

It would, Hinami understands, have been better if Shuu hadn't loved Kaneki after all. But, Hinami thinks, selfishly in the way that she has learned to be, she's glad he did. She wouldn't be here otherwise. Kanae gazes up at her. He smiles a little, thin and watery. He knows what she's thinking. He understands.

He's let her into his heart, too.

 

**d.**

Matsumae texts ahead that she and Shuu are coming home. It's followed by several texts from Shuu to both Kanae and Hinami's phone that make absolutely no sense on their own. It's only after Kanae realises that Hinami is also receiving messages that he's able to figure it out. He feels himself starting to clench his jaw to grind his teeth. He forcibly stops himself.

"It's the melody line for the drinking song from _La Traviata_ ," Kanae says as Hinami gazes at their phone screen with furrowed brows. "He's drunk."

Hinami frowns. "He can barely manage normal blood," she says, not bothering to hide her irritation. "What's he doing accepting wine?"

Kanae shrugs, concentrating on his mascara and make-up remover. His question is why Matsumae allowed it. Something exceptionally bad must have happened. She likely allowed it in hopes to give Shuu some sort of buffer. She's too soft on him. They all are in their own ways.

When Matsumae and Shuu arrive, it's pretty clear as soon as they get out of the car that Shuu is very drunk. Kanae unlocks the front of the main house, wincing as he watches Matsumae and Shuu navigating the main pathway. Shuu reaches out and catches himself on the railing of the bridge over the pond. He says something that Kanae can't understand due to it being mumbled and slurred. Matsumae puts her hands at his waist and guides him away.

"You can feed them later."

Kanae drags a hand down his face. The damn fish. Maybe they really should get Shuu a pet. It might even be good for Kanae, if nothing else to have memories of a living dog. Matsumae gets Shuu up the steps, her expression as sheepish as Kanae has ever seen it. Shuu's head rests on her shoulder, fingers hanging onto the edge of her left sleeve. He catches sight of Kanae, blinking at him with eyes that have difficulty focusing.

"Oh," he says, and he smiles, goofy and so much like the person he no longer is that it's a punch in the gut, "Kanae! Tonight, tonight _stasera_ -"

He sounds so much like he used to. Kanae swallows. Tries to smile. Fails. Shuu hums drunkenly on a leitmotif that Kanae should recognise but doesn't have the presence of mind to do so. Matsumae tries to get Shuu to let go of her sleeve so that she can get him out of his shoes, but Shuu clings harder. He turns his gaze to her, wide-eyed and trusting. Matsumae's mask cracks.

"Matsumae," Shuu says, and he beams, so very happy, "you always take care of me."

Kanae is suddenly extremely uncomfortable. He bends down so he doesn't have to look at Matsumae's face. He reaches out, tapping lightly at Shuu's left ankle. Luckily, this routine is so engrained in Shuu that he lifts his foot immediately for Kanae to remove his geta. Above, Shuu hums again, slightly muffled. He must have tucked his face into Matsumae's shoulder. Kanae repeats the process with Shuu's right foot, standing up with both geta in hand. Matsumae catches his eye, a cry for help. 

"Shuu-niisan," Kanae starts.

A high-pitched giggle. It's very alarming. Shuu attempts to right himself from Matsumae. He partially succeeds but appears to have forgotten that Kanae took his shoes off and over-balances. Matsumae catches him at the waist, although it squishes the high arrow of the tateya musubi. That's fine by Kanae. It's better than Shuu sprawling in the entrance. Shuu makes a hand motion he probably thinks means something, smiling guilelessly at Kanae.

"She dies," he says, sing-songing it like Kanae is used to Bunko doing, "of tuberculosis."

Alarming. Kanae throws Matsumae a look that he hopes communicates how much he disapproves of whatever led up to this. It's really unnecessary as Kanae knows logically that no one takes Shuu's health as seriously as Matsumae, but Kanae is a petty person. Shuu apparently isn't paying attention. He's found something very interesting about his furisode. He continues to hum lightly to himself. 

It's relatively easy after that to get Shuu through the main room, through the hall, and into his rooms. Hinami is there, having filled the bath. She stares for a moment at the scene. It occurs to Kanae that Hinami may never have seen Shuu drunk. This used to be a more common scene, especially since Asahi, Kamiko, and Kosei didn't care what Shuu did when he was home so long as he did what they wanted him to. This meant that Shuu spent a lot of time sitting around, waiting for the ball to drop. Drinking was a way to pass the time and to dull the anxiety that Shuu had always been prone to. It was a fairly vicious cycle, since Shuu was up to so many risky things when he was on his own.

" _Bonsoir, mademoiselle_ ," Shuu says when he spots Hinami.

She jolts, eyes going huge like she's looking at a ghost. This reaction, out of everything, catches and holds Shuu's attention. He blinks owlishly at her. Kanae and Matsumae take advantage of this moment of stillness to start undoing the obi and undoing his hair. Hinami shakes herself out of it after a long moment, catching Matsumae's eye. She looks thunderous.

"I don't like this," she says.

Matsumae inclines her head. None of them like this. Shuu will definitely not like this when he sobers up. Kanae remembers the hangovers that Shuu used to nurse when they were both younger as very strange times. Shuu was always oddly quiet. He slept far too much or spent long periods of time staring at the ceiling. Back then, Kanae had just thought he was wallowing in the hangover. Now, Kanae knows it was a warning sign.

They manage to get Shuu undressed and into the bath. Shuu has gone fairly docile aside from humming more of _La Traviata_ to himself. Matsumae steps out, likely to get something solid to attempt to feed Shuu. Hinami lingers in the doorway as Kanae sits on the edge of the bath, washing Shuu's hair.

"How often did this happen?"

Kanae stops. Shuu isn't listening, lost somewhere in music. Kanae looks over. Hinami has her head only half-turned. She's looking in the direction of where the vanity is.

"Before?"

Her gaze shifts further towards him. "Yes," she says, very dry. "Before."

Kanae looks back at Shuu, who continues humming. He isn't paying attention at all. Kanae resumes washing his hair. 

"Not that often," Kanae says because it hadn't.

Shuu stayed away from the estate as much as possible. Despite missing him, Kanae had never blamed him for it. After all, if Kanae could have escaped half as often, he would have. Kanae gets the impression that Shuu was doing far more than just school and Gourmet-related activities while he was living alone, but it's not Kanae's place to pry. Shuu had been vibrant and healthy back then. Uncontrollable, too, but Kanae had also considered that a good thing. That Shuu, the one that Kanae had loved so furiously, who seemed so undefeatable -

"Kanae-niisan."

He's zoned out. Even Shuu has noticed, his head tilted back to try and catch Kanae's gaze. Kanae feels strange. He looks down at his hands, full of hair and suds. The motion makes him feel dizzy.

There's a soft touch. Shoulder. Kanae looks up. Hinami is standing next to him, her eyebrows furrowed. Worried. Kanae hadn't heard her approach.

"You've gone really pale."

Kanae opens his mouth. Shuts it. He feels increasingly disorientated. There's a touch to his other shoulder. Shuu has turned in the bath. He isn't humming. He's drunk, not stupid. Shuu is never as oblivious as people think he is. Kanae -

"Kanae."

It's just enough warning for Kanae to slide into the bath, draw his knees up, and put his head between them before his vision tunnels and winks out.

 

**vii.**

Hinami watches Matsumae feed Kanae a cut of raw, fatty thigh. Shuu, wrapped in a winter dressing robe, watches, too. Kanae is seated on the floor, propped up against the wall. He blinks occasionally, the only indication that he knows what's happening around him. He eats mechanically, accepting each bite-size cut as Matsumae presses it to his lips. It's very disquieting. Kanae is not picky about what he eats, but he's very picky about how he eats it. He doesn't like others choosing or handling his food, and he's very peculiar about people watching him eat. Hinami suspects that Kanae eats only enough to stay healthy and only what no one else wants to eat. 

"When was the last time you ate?"

Kanae's looks over to Shuu. Shuu can always be depended upon to hold any of their attention. Matsumae prods his mouth with another bite of meat. Kanae open his mouth. Chews. Swallows. He doesn't take his eyes off Shuu.

"A week ago," he says.

Kanae doesn't lie to Shuu. If it was Hinami or Matsumae asking, he probably would lie. Say something like yesterday or a couple days ago. They wouldn't be able to call him on it because Kanae manages their food stock. Matsumae might be able to make a better guess than Hinami, but she isn't Shuu. Kanae, when it comes to this, is a very good liar.

"What did you eat?"

Matsumae presses another bit of meat to Kanae's lips. Kanae accepts it. Chews. Swallows.

"Tendons."

Hinami grimaces. That's what they cut off and put away to be blended up or discarded. It's not sufficient alone as food. Hinami knows Kanae knows this. At the vanity, Shuu hums. More of whatever he was humming earlier. He's still drunk. Matsumae resumes feeding Kanae at a faster pace. Hinami takes the opportunity to rub her eyes. It's been a very long day.

A shifting of fabric. Matsumae stands up. The plate is empty. Kanae's eyes on the floor, his arms around his legs. 

"I'm going to get something more," Matsumae says. "Stay here."

It's probably going to be the rest of the thigh. Usually, they feed this sort of cut to Shuu on the rare days he's able to take nutrition and hold it down. Kanae, if he was at all feeling like himself, would protest. That he doesn't is telling. 

"Kanae," Shuu murmurs.

Kanae puts his head down against his knees. Breathes out a sigh.

"I know."

Hinami tilts backwards until she's lying over the foot of Shuu's bed. She yawns, eyes pressing closed. In this, things have changed. They're able to sit and talk like this. Shuu, despite that very frightening moment earlier when he'd sounded exactly like something out of the past, is a different person now. 

They all are.

 

**0.**

This is a memory.

"Shuu."

He was six. Mother coming to talk to him was a rare thing. It was even rarer that she touched him voluntarily. She held his chin, tilting his head up and away from his book. She smelled like rose water perfume, salt from tears, and something coiling he didn't understand, not back then.

"Mother?"

She smiled. Soft, sweet, and very, very sad. She leaned down. Kissed his brow. Her hair curtained them, hiding them for a single moment from the world.

"Don't forget," she whispered, "you are my son."

Shuu wakes up. 

He stares at his ceiling. It is the same ceiling that he has called his own since he was three and it was deemed time that he was moved out of the nursery. He wasn't particularly strong, and he was very small for his age, but he had been bright. He had always known how to observe, even before he knew why it was necessary. He wasn't good with people, and he was too loud, but those were excusable things. He knew when to act, and he knew when not to. That was important.

Outside, it is raining. Light summer showers. There is faint light beneath the curtains. It's quiet in the house, though, so it must not be yet time that Shuu must wake up. Or, perhaps due to the day and night before, it's been decided that Shuu be allowed to sleep in. Shuu is awake.

He sits up. His mouth is a bit fuzzy, but otherwise he feels steady. Blood wine has no nutrition, and with Kanae in the condition he was the night before, Shuu had forgotten to eat anything himself. Then again, Shuu forgets that sort of thing regularly nowadays, so it's not surprising. He sits for a long moment, breathing slowly, deeply. The wound doesn't ache. He feels bizarrely good.

It gives Shuu the courage to change getting out of bed on his own. He slides to the side. Sets his feet on the ground. His chest doesn't protest and the world doesn't threaten to tilt. Shuu stands up. Walks to the vanity. His hair is a mess and he has sleep in his eyes. He picks up the robe, pulling it around his shoulders. He reaches up and rubs his eyes. The face that blinks back is pale and has shadows under the eyes and in the cheeks. It stirs a faint feeling of disgust, but it doesn't make him nauseous. Shuu looks away.

He moves like this, barefoot and wearing his robe on his shoulders, out into the hallway. Down it. He stops for a moment in front of the double doors to the music room. He adjusts the robe, fumbling awkwardly to get his arms through the sleeves. It doesn't make his wound hurt, although it's not terribly comfortable. He pushes open the right hand door, leaving it open behind him.

"I thought I'd find you here."

Kanae nearly jumps out of his skin. He doesn't scream, as Kanae doesn't scream, but his mouth opens in a soundless cry. He has his violin bow in hand. His violin is still in its case. He uses the bow to practice motions without the violin.

"Shuu-niisan," he says, and he fumbles with the bow, his feet, his entire body. "You're awake."

Shuu crosses the room. He hooks his right foot on a leg of the piano bench, moving it just enough so that he can sit down. Kanae sets down his bow. He pulls out a handkerchief from his back pocket and wipes at his mouth. Wipes off lipstick. Shuu is so used to Kanae wearing lipstick its presence is normalised. Kanae without lipstick is more unusual.

"How are you feeling?"

Kanae worries the handkerchief. He doesn't respond. Shuu waits a bit longer. Kanae folds the handkerchief over. Rectangle. Square. Rectangle. Square. He's going to run out of cloth.

"Kanae."

He looks up. Shuu motions him over. Kanae comes. Shuu holds out his hand, and Kanae hands over the handkerchief. The fabric is thin. It's nearing the end of its lifespan.

The expression Kanae has on is pained. "I don't -"

"Kanae."

They're quiet. Without something to occupy his hands, Kanae brings his left hand up to his mouth. Slips his ringfinger between his lips to chew the nail. Shuu sets the handkerchief atop the piano. He rests his hands in his lap. 

"Hinami," Kanae starts, somewhat muffled by his own hand, "wants to get you a pet."

Shuu feels himself blink. Kanae worries his nail. His other arm is tucked across his stomach, hand wrapping around to his back. He's massaging over his left kakuhou.

"I don't understand."

"I thought," Kanae says, talking into his hand and only half looking at Shuu, "maybe a cat. But you like the koi so much, and a cat would definitely try to eat them. So a dog. Do you like dogs?"

Shuu reaches up. Rubs his eyes. It's not often that Kanae rambles like this, but, when he does, Shuu has a difficult time following his train of thought. He senses that Kanae has a hard time following his own train of thought, so he doesn't point it out. 

"I don't," Shuu says, "need a pet."

Shuu has Chie. Kanae looks at him. He hasn't put on concealer or foundation. There are dark shadows under his eyes and faint ones in his cheeks. Shuu's been paying so much attention lately to Sasaki. Shuu breathes in. Breathes out.

"Kanae," he says, motioning to the bench, "sit down."

Kanae moves. He steps around Shuu. Sits on the bench. It's a little awkward as Shuu hasn't tied his robe. The fabric takes up a good amount of the bench and Kanae won't sit on it. If Shuu moves it now, it'll just be awkward. Shuu shifts slightly so that they aren't talking facing opposite directions. Kanae sits hunched, his ring and middle fingers in his mouth. He's wearing his engagement ring, which Shuu has noticed he's also taken to worrying. 

They sit like that for a long time. Shuu reaches out after a while, tucking his hand against the curve of Kanae's neck. He rubs slow circles. Kanae stops chewing his nails. His arm drifts down, tucking over his stomach. 

"I'm sorry," Kanae says at length, looking down at his knees. "I don't know what's wrong with me."

Shuu tucks his fingers against the line of Kanae's hair. Brushes with the back of his nails, tracing the line. Kanae blinks. Once. Twice. He looks very tired.

"That's fine."

After all, Shuu doesn't know what is wrong with himself the majority of the time either. Kanae glances up at him. His eyes flicker back and forth. Searching. Shuu has no idea what. Maybe, he thinks faintly, just to search.

"Okay," Kanae whispers, and he blinks, very heavy. "Can I lie down?"

Shuu nods. Kanae shifts, curling himself up on the bench. His shoulders and head end up in Shuu's lap, but he manages to fit all but his feet onto the bench. Kanae isn't tiny, but he's not big either. Shuu doesn't say it, but he suspects from the size of Kanae's feet and hands should have grown a few inches taller. Kanae spent a year in constant stress between his family's massacre and making it to Japan. It probably stunted something in his growth.

Shuu cards his fingers through Kanae's hair. He looks up at the ceiling. There's a skylight here. Rain patters down over a faint, gray sky.

He is his mother's son.

 

**viii.**

Hinami pauses in the open door to the music room. Shuu is sitting at the piano, looking upwards. Kanae is curled up on the bench, half on Shuu's lap. His eyes are closed, and Shuu is stroking his hair. Slowly, Shuu tilts his head, his unbrushed hair half-curtaining his face. He catches sight of Hinami, blinking gently.

 _Is he sleeping?_ Hinami mouths.

Shuu nods his head slightly. He continues slow strokes through Kanae's hair. Hinami enters, stepping very carefully. If it was anyone besides them or Matsumae, Kanae would likely have already woken up. That he remains asleep says a lot. 

Hinami comes to a stop a couple paces away. She looks up briefly, checking if Shuu was actually looking at anything. It's the skylight, which Shuu could have been seeing anything in. When she returns her gaze, Shuu is watching her. Hinami makes an eating motion with her hands. Shuu is silent for a long moment, his eyes drifting upwards again. Considering. He looks back to her. Nods.

Hinami retraces her steps, slipping as quietly as possible back out the music room door. She walks to the kitchen. Matsumae has gone out to restock, but there's still half a ribcage, a thigh, and calf in the refrigerator. They have a lot more in the freezers underground, but that's emergency supply. Hinami unwraps the thigh, inspecting it briefly before taking it off the butcher paper to run briefly under the tap. It smells a bit, since it's been in there for several days.

She sets about slicing it into bite-size pieces. She remembers watching Shuu do this back in the apartment when he stayed longer than just delivering information or training with Kaneki. It had seemed odd back then to watch Shuu in the kitchen, humming to himself as he went about such a domestic routine. Hinami had been fascinated by it, the way Shuu treated the meat, inspecting and preparing it with a level of care that Hinami sensed no one else picked up on. Back when Hinami's father was still alive, he would bring food home in pieces, already prepared likely at Anteiku or in one of the many underground areas ghouls store tools and dispose of waste. Their apartment was tiny, and it was impractical and dangerous to keep too much food in their miniscule refrigerator. 

Hinami sets the diced meat on a plate. She washes her hands and pulls out napkins, utensils, and a serving tray. She walks back down the hall, peering in through the music room door. Shuu and Kanae are in the same position that she left them in, although Shuu is looking down at Kanae. He has a contemplative expression that doesn't change when he looks over to her. He looks at the tray. The food. Back down at Kanae.

"Kanae."

Kanae blinks awake. He's facing Hinami, so she's the first thing he focuses on. Then the tray. Food. He blinks again, shifting slightly to look up at Shuu. 

"Oh."

He shuffles. Sits up. He rubs his left eye, right eye falling into a squint. His hair is mussed. In this moment, Shuu and Kanae look blood-related. Hinami huffs out a laugh, turning away to tilt a music stand down to set the tray on as a makeshift table.

"What're you laughing at?"

Of course Kanae is grumbling. It means he's feeling better. Hinami huffs another laugh. She turns back around, taking the music stand with her. She sets it in front of them. Shuu looks at the stand like it's an alien. Kanae squints up at her, pouting.

It just makes her laugh more.

 

**e.**

Summer, for the first time in years, passes relatively quietly.

Kanae is grateful for that. They don't do anything public for his coming of age, which he's even more grateful for. If Shuu wasn't the Tsukiyama head, there probably would have been a huge party, even though Kanae would just be a simple servant. It would have been an overwhelming, stressful affair with humans and ghouls climbing the wall and crawling into every nook and cranny. Kanae has no wish to ever celebrate his birthday, let alone like that.

Instead, they have a small gathering in the 21st ward in the apartment above Bunko's shop. It's there not because the Tsukiyama estate has anything wrong with it but because even Kanae, who will be the first to acknowledge that all of them have become homebodies of late, can only stand so much of the same four walls. Chie joins them and brings a really complicated-looking pannacotta to eat. Bunko has put effort into meat presentation besides her usual stellar butchering. 

"Wagashi," Shuu says, leaning forward on the couch to look at the neat, uniform little squares, all browned in such a way to get a gradient of colour. 

To get such a reaction out of Shuu regarding food is such a grand present that Kanae nearly cries right then and there. Bunko chuckles, elbows resting on her knees. 

"All different cuts," she says cheerfully before laughing her usual cackle. "Chie here helped me eyeball the colour."

What a strange human, Kanae thinks as he samples one of the just faintly seared pieces. It tastes amazing. Bunko has also made something akin to steak tartare, which tastes even better. He doesn't bother listening to Shuu and Bunko's discussion of what Bunko used as a substitute for egg. Instead he holds out the plate to Hinami, who is looking at some photos that Chie has on her camera.

"You have to try this."

Hinami takes the plate. She uses the small spoons that have been set out to take a bit of the meat mince. It stirs a memory from the far reaches of Kanae's brain.

"There's a dish like this," he says as Hinami puts the spoonful in her mouth, kakugan appearing immediately, "where I'm from. It's called _Mett_ , but some call it _Hackepeter_ , too."

She raises her eyebrows. "Ghoul dishes have names in Germany?"

Kanae pauses. Feels his own eyebrows furrow.

"No," he says, although as soon as he says that his brain coughs up an image. "Or maybe? I think my great-uncle had names for some things. There was something he used to bring at Easter. It was meat slices shaped into an egg. That had its own name. So did the layers. I don't remember seeing anything like that for humans."

"What were they called?"

Kanae frowns. He tilts his head up, looking at Bunko's ceiling. She has really bad taste in lighting fixtures, or maybe that's just what came with the shop and apartment space. Considering Bunko, she probably just doesn't care about them. 

"I don't remember," he says, looking back down to Hinami and shrugging. "It was complicated. Something _Osterei_ something."

Hinami smiles, more than a little sadly. "I didn't know that there were such things," she says, nodding down to the plate in her hand and the wagashi on the table, "not so long ago."

Kanae knows. He can see sometimes how lost Hinami feels in this world. There are times that Kanae is lost, too. Chie is listening, eating her pannacotta. Shuu and Bunko are not. They're arguing about something to do with the proper texture of ghoul wagashi, and whenever the two of them argue it's like listening to real siblings. Kanae holds his hands out. Hinami passes the plate back to him. He sets it on the coffee table, between all of their coffee cups.

"Did you like it?"

Her smile evens out. She isn't wearing anything aside from moisturiser, but that simple expression gives her a brilliant glow. Kanae would be jealous if she was anyone else.

"I did."

 

**ix.**

There is a story that Hinami remembers from her childhood. It wasn't one that her parents told her. It might have been in a book or on television, although she didn't watch much television. She doesn't really remember details like character names, but it was a story about a girl who goes into a forest. She finds a basket full of food and carries it in search of its owner. She gets lost in the woods, and that is how the story ends. Hinami supposes it was supposed to be some sort cautionary tale. 

Hinami remembers, sitting and reading that book, that she hadn't thought that it was that bad an ending. The girl wasn't dead, just lost, and it was possible that she found the owner of the basket. The owner would be grateful for the food, or perhaps the food was bait. One could assume the girl was human, but that isn't necessarily the case. It was a very old book with very old stories, and those tend to have different meanings. They were printed for different audiences.

She recounts the story and her thoughts on it to Shuu as he works on a research paper towards his law degree. Or, more accurately, while Shuu lies face down on a massive textbook on English torts from 1945 to 1980. Hinami can tell he isn't asleep and that he is listening, though, because his arms press lightly on the desk, taking some weight off of his chest. It's coming up to half-term, and, since Shuu is doing most of his degree remotely, this paper is the only mode of assessment. Usually Shuu is better at keeping up with his degree and juggling the family business, but there's been a lot of issues recently with a Ghoul Auction group that's been driving both the legal and less savoury ends of the Tsukiyama business into conniptions. 

"I wish they would get lost," Shuu says into the book. "What's the point of bidding on things that aren't guaranteed to taste good?"

Hinami coughs. She picks up her coffee mug. Sips it. Shuu groans into the paper before pushing himself back up into a sitting position. He opens his mouth wide, yawning very impolitely. He shakes his head furiously, patting his hands against his face and then pushing back his hair. He's trying to get his brain back into gear. Hinami sips her coffee again, smiling into it.

Shuu grunts. He looks back down at the book, his left hand moving to his chest. He rubs over where she knows the wound Asahi gave him tends to act up the most after he's been in an uncomfortable position. His expression isn't pained, though, so he probably isn't at risk of a coughing fit.

"Why did I go back to school?" he mutters, right hand picking up a highlighter.

That is a good question. "I don't know," Hinami says, crossing her legs and leaning back into the couch. "Why did you?"

"Huh?" Shuu asks, the cap of the highlight in his mouth; he spits it just below the spine of the book, lips twisting even as he starts highlighting something in the margin. "Grandmother recommended it."

This doesn't surprise Hinami, but it is still disheartening. Shuu has very much grown into his position, but there are still parts of him that are stuck in his previous subordinate roll. It brings to mind that Bunko had once said that Shuu tried so hard to escape this world. Hinami isn't one for regrets, but she does wonder if Shuu has them.

Shuu groans. He sets the highlighter down and rubs his eyes. Hinami sips her coffee.

"Idiots," he says, face in his hands. "It's the Ghoul Restaurant all over again. Stupid, stupid, _stupid_ -"

This is what Kanae comes in to. He has a fresh pot of coffee and mugs. He looks at Shuu, expression apprehensive. Usually, when Shuu goes into a tirade that includes repetitious language, it's indicative that he might be about to have a fit. This time, Hinami is fairly sure that Shuu is just complaining. It doesn't happen often. Shuu has a lot of things he could complain about, but he doesn't. 

Shuu trails off with a long, thin sigh. He can't huff, which Hinami suspects is what he really would like to do. It usually makes him cough. He lets his hands fall, making hollow thumps on the book and desk. He blinks at the cafetière as if it is the sun.

"Oh," he breathes, "good."

Kanae snorts. He sets about serving the three of them. Matsumae has gone out to Osaka, to look over the plans for a new wing of the university hospital at Handai the Tsukiyama family is donating to build. Shuu accepts his mug of coffee, holding it close to his chest as he reads with slightly narrowed eyes. Hinami wonders, not for the first time, why Shuu has to do everything the hard way; if he donated enough to Todai, they would simply probably issue him an honorary degree.

She accepts a mug from Kanae. He sits down with his own next to her, crossing his legs as he settles back. Outside, the sun is high. Shuu's office has a view of the south and the main gate. The heavy doors are shut and locked, the carved mon of the Tsukiyama house clearly visible. It reminds Hinami of a fortress.

The wail of Shuu's cellphone jars Hinami out of her thoughts. Shuu snaps his mechanical pencil's lead, which makes him curse as he fumbles with his cardigan to pull out the offending phone. There's a very short list of people who have Shuu's cellphone number, and no one calls unless it's urgent. Hinami glances at Kanae. He shrugs with his right shoulder as Shuu picks up.

"Bunko -"

He falls silent. Hinami turns her attention back to Shuu as well. The irritation quickly tapers off as he listens, his lips evening out as his eyes go distant.

"You said that Rappiyakuda's old territory had been redistributed."

Hinami's stomach twists. Raccoon. Next to her, Kanae leans forward to put his mug on the coffee table. Half-drunk.

"I'm not that out of the loop," Shuu says, dully; he sits back in his chair, left hand drifting up to rub at his chest. "The Auctions are a nuisance."

Hinami can hear Bunko speaking at Shuu's phone volume settings, but she's speaking very fast through what sounds like a deliberately bad quality connection, making it difficult to concentrate on. Shuu presses the heel of his palm over the centre of his wound, grimacing with his teeth.

"So they want the CCG involved," Shuu says through his teeth, shutting his eyes. "That's troublesome."

Bunko starts laughing. Hinami doesn't see what's funny about this at all, but there's probably a reason for it. Hinami leans forward to set her own coffee down.

"I'm serious," Shuu says, and his teeth are still clenched, hand compressing his chest. "If the Clowns are active again, Aogiri Tree must be somewhere, too. It's great trouble for everyone. _Yes_ , Bunko, from personal experience!"

The brief loss of temper makes Shuu start coughing. He sets the phone down, putting it on speaker as he fumbles with a handkerchief to cover his mouth. Bunko is still snickering on the other side of the line. 

"It'll be a big publicity stunt," Bunko says, and she sounds as cruel as Hinami has ever heard her. "The CCG will have to pull out all of their fancy new things to show the taxpayers they're getting their money's worth."

It is true that the CCG's budget has recently come up for debate. Increased money to the military and the CCG traditionally go hand in hand, but the past two years have seen an increase in CCG funding at a higher rate than military. This Hinami is aware of from reading the news as well as listening to Ichinose Shuichi's complaints about the state of weapons contracting. Apparently, a lot of the traditional military contracts are being increasingly outsourced. It makes Hinami, and she suspects Bunko and Shuu wonder, if something is going on they're not being made explicitly aware of.

"Because that's gone so well in the past," Shuu mutters into his handkerchief.

"Oh, it did," Bunko murmurs, and she laughs again. "A failure can be a victory when you spin it right."

They're talking about the night Kaneki left. Hinami stands up. She moves to the desk. Shuu is looking down at his handkerchief. There's a few flecks of blood on the white cloth.

"So what are we going to do?"

Bunko cackles, turning static over the line. Shuu looks up at her through his hair. He looks very worn. Hinami clenches her hands at her sides.

"Nothing," Shuu says at the same time Bunko does; there's a slight pause before Shuu continues. "We wait."

 

**0.**

When Shuu was twelve, it was decided that he would move into Tokyo to attend Seinan Gakuin High School. For families like his, it is still a somewhat unusual decision. He was the singular heir, and there was no limit on access to private tutors and testing schemes. Shuu is not sure of the reasoning that led to the decision to send him away to school. Shuu was not given a choice in the matter. He woke up one morning, Matsumae informed him the decision had been made, and that was that. 

Selfishly, Shuu had been overjoyed. He had dreamed of getting to see more of the world, or, more specifically, escaping the confines of the Tsukiyama estate for more than just the occasional society party and publicity stunt. There were, of course, stipulations. Matsumae would be at school and live with him in an apartment for at least the first year. She would teach him how to hunt inside of Tokyo, and, if he succeeded at school, hunting, and anything else asked of him, he would be granted the apartment and choice of hobbies. Looking back on it now, Shuu understands that it had been a test. If he had failed at anything in that first year, Matsumae likely would have been ordered to bring him back to the estate at best or kill him at worse.

The family had needed a public face. Shuu had not understood that then because he had been self-centred and stupid. Sending Shuu away to school, forcing him to interact with peers of his social class both ghoul and human, and placing him in a docile Ward: it was training for Shuu to replace Kosei within a decade. Shuu's father was unpopular except in a select, almost exclusively ghoul circle in their class. When Shuu was in high school, he barely saw his father, who rotated between brief periods of usefulness to the family and long periods in social exile for the stunts he liked to pull. Shuu lived most of his life under the impression that his father was dimwitted and gross. Now, Shuu sometimes wonders if those periods cataloguing the brown bears in Hokkaido were the closest to freedom his father ever came.

Living in Tokyo, almost entirely alone after that first year with Matsumae coming by to his apartment once a week in high school and only as needed in university: in some ways, those were golden years. He was the Gourmet, a feared presence, and he was Tsukiyama Shuu, healthy, athletic, and attractive. All he had to do was extend a hand and opportunity would fall into it. He had it all.

That's probably why he hadn't noticed how miserable he was for so long. He was well-aware that he had things others didn't, that he was better than others at so many things. Why should he complain? Why should he feel lonely? Why should he sometimes look in the mirror and want to scream? So he didn't complain, didn't feel lonely, didn't scream. He bit his tongue, shut his eyes, and pushed himself forward without looking back. Seeking pleasure, seeking fulfilment, seeking anything to feel the gaping abyss that threatened to swallow him whole if he stopped to think. 

It became a litany. Eat something. You'll feel better. Hurt someone. You'll feel better. Look at people who are less fortunate, more miserable. You'll feel better. If you don't, something's wrong with you. Something's wrong with you. Something's _wrong_ with you, _stupid_ boy -

Shuu coughs. It's wet, and he can smell his own blood. He rolls his eyes skyward, keeping the handkerchief over his mouth. The sky is overcast, a late autumn storm likely coming in. There was no Indian summer this year, unlike the three past. Farewell, thou latter spring; farewell, All-hallown summer! Shuu coughs again, feels it snag in his chest. 

"Shuu-niisan."

He feels fabric settle over his shoulders. Tucked under his neck. Hinami has brought a shawl. It smells faintly of sandalwood, which the clothing storage room is lined with. He wonders if she knows that his mother's clothes are all stored in there.

"You shouldn't sit out in the cold."

Shuu looks at her. She stands almost against his right shoulder. She's dressed in a duffel coat, a long skirt, tabi, and informal zori. They're all light creams with tan accents. It makes her look older than she really is. 

Shuu pulls the handkerchief away. Set it in his lap atop the fish food container. He looks at the koi, still swimming near in hopes of more food. 

"I'm fine."

Hinami sighs. "Don't lie to me."

Her hand appears in his vision. Shuu breathes out. He picks the handkerchief up again and passes it to her. She takes it, probably inspecting how much blood came up. It's not a lot, Shuu wants to say. His lungs have almost entirely scarred over these days. If it continues like this, he might even heal one day.

"Shuu-niisan, look at me."

He looks up. Hinami looks down at him. Her lips are thin and her jaw tight. She holds the handkerchief in front of her, the stains plainly visible.

"Is this my maeyaku?" 

There's a tremor to her tone. She's afraid. She wants to do something. Shuu cannot, not as he is. Not yet. But Hinami is eighteen. She is youthful, healthy, and beautiful when she allows herself to be. Shuu remembers what that was like. How it felt to think he was in control of his life, to think he could build something all his own. Hinami comes from that world, the nebulous place between his world and the gutter. 

"Do you want it to be?"

She bites her lip. Clenches the handkerchief. There's a faint, chilly breeze. It ruffles their hair.

"They'll send him," she says. "Because he's the new weapon."

Shuu nods. It would be logical to send Sasaki and the Quinx into the auction. With so many wealthy ghouls, they're bound to catch at least a few that will make great publicity stunts for the CCG. If just one of the Quinx make a major capture, then it will give the CCG the perfect propaganda for the public. Look at what science has achieved. Look at how far we have come. The fearful public will lap it up. Everyone loves a hero.

"And we are going to let them."

Shuu nods. Hinami tightens her hold on the handkerchief. She looks down. Shuu looks back into the pond. At the koi. 

"If they succeed," Shuu says, "then I will commit to a new research and development contract. The money provided may be used at the CCG's discretion. If they fail, I will only partially renew funding, and I will stipulate that the money be used only for quinque development. And if the results are unusual, then I will negociate."

"So you would let him die."

Shuu shuts his eyes. He remembers the last time he saw his father. He was already dead. Shuu only knew he'd died because he happened to visit the estate to pick up more books for Kaneki and had been in need of a snack to tide him over for a couple of days. He found his father's dismembered body in the basement freezers. Asahi was still in the process of getting the documents forged to declare Kosei's death a heart attack. Shuu remembers congratulating himself for not screaming. He did, unfortunately, throw up.

"I'm not -" 

His voice wavers, cracks. He breathes in, harsh and hard. It makes his chest scream in discomfort. He grits his teeth, forcing himself to breath out slowly. To not cough.

"I don't want that."

He doesn't. Of course he doesn't. Shuu loves Kaneki. Even, although he is so different, Sasaki. These past few months in which he kept away from Sasaki and Sasaki kept silent have been an exercise in restraint to the point of torture. Those handful of moments where Sasaki looked at him, talked to him, treated him like a person: those had been so novel, new, and, now that Shuu is bereft of them, they were wonderful, too. Shuu will never have anything like that, not from this world. This unmovable, unchanging world.

"But he wouldn't stop for me. Or you. He has not changed that much. He will do what he thinks is right. He will protect who he wants with all his heart."

He opens his eyes. Looks to Hinami. She gazes down at him. Hands clenched. She does not protest. She knows it's true, too.

"He won't choose to stay."

 

**x.**

Hinami finds Kanae in the library. He's brought the chess set with him. There's a large book with chess puzzles open next to him. He's playing against himself by the light of a portable lamp.

"May I join you?"

Kanae motions across the board. Hinami walks over. Sits down. There's a cup of stale coffee behind the lamp that she didn't see from the end of the row. Kanae is considering the puzzle he's set up, twisting his engagement ring absentmindedly. 

"Is he still outside?"

Hinami shakes her head. "He's back in his office."

Kanae looks up, eyebrows raised. He's done his eyes in royal purple eyeliner that he's extended over his temples to the edge of his hairline. The surprised expression makes him look more like art than a person. Hinami feels her lips twitch, despite everything that's happening.

"I reminded him the paper is due in three days."

"Manipulating his sense of duty," Kanae says, wagging his finger in mock-reprimand. "You've come so far."

Hinami swallows. Her entire body feels like it's burning. Kanae blinks. He looks at her, eyes moving over her face. His hand returns to his lap. His expression sobers.

"You have," he says, holding her gaze. "We can't run around like we used to, doing reckless things."

It's a bit of an exaggeration, but Hinami appreciates his attempt. They hadn't been a hunting team for that long. Less than two months. The CCG had already been calling Kanae Trenchcoat, and they only knew enough about Hinami's mask to call her Butterfly. They hadn't even been hunting most of the time. Just observing CCG operations and movements. Kanae was the one who hunted, although not confidently or well. Half of their resources were supplied by Bunko. Back then, Hinami had thought Bunko was being paid. Now, Hinami suspects Bunko did it on her own accord. It is not that Bunko is generous. Keeping Shuu alive was to her benefit just as much as theirs.

Across from her, Kanae sighs. He reaches to the side, picking up the book on chess puzzles. He holds it out to her, pointing to the pictorial scenario. 

"This is a shortest proof problem," he says. "I'm trying to work out how this situation happened in the least moves possible."

Hinami takes the book. She looks at the set up on the page before looking down at the board that Kanae has set up. It mirrors the picture in the book, which means that Kanae has only just started this particular problem. Hinami looks up, searching the bookcases on either side of them for where he got the book from.

"I ordered it."

"Oh," Hinami says and it suddenly makes a lot more sense; the book feels very new. "Did you get it today?"

Kanae sniffs. He reaches up and rubs lightly at his nose. The library, due to its size and the amount of its contents, is inevitably fairly dusty.

"No," he says, fishing out a handkerchief from his back pocket. "I've had it for a week. Just haven't had time to get around to it."

Hinami hums. She turns her attention to the puzzle set up on the board. It has been a hectic past week ever since the auctions were brought up in a recent shareholder meeting for Nihon Kraft Foods. Apparently, a major shipment into Tokyo of the parmesan cheese went missing due to activities associated with the auctions. How bizarre, one of the shareholders had laughed; what do ghouls need with parmesan cheese? Of course, they don't need the cheese. The refrigeration trucks were likely what were needed. It's spiralled outward from there for Shuu to figure out if the family's interests are being further disturbed by the auction's activity.

"Did we have something in the refrigeration trucks?" Hinami had asked after Shuu stayed up all night double-checking the accounts.

"No," Shuu had said, somewhat wetly because he'd just been choking down a mouthful of blood. "We aren't directly involved with the transport of bodies these days."

Which meant, of course, that the Tsukiyama family had been involved in that sort of trade in the past. Hinami doesn't doubt that the import/export business has involvement in quinque material, nor does he doubt that Shuu has been involved in this for many years. A part of Hinami, the part that her parents and Kaneki and Touka raised, still recoils. It's distasteful business. The other part of Hinami, the one that learned to hate, learned necessity, understands: it's not necessary to like something to need to do it.

"Kanae-niisan."

He hasn't looked away from her. Hinami admires his eyeliner, the deft, upward sweep. It's like he's given his eyes wings.

"You would do anything to keep Shuu-niisan safe."

Kanae nods. No hesitation. He smiles. It's warm, loving, and terribly knowing.

"Anything."

Hinami sets the book on the floor. She looks down at the board. She doesn't know the shortest route to victory. That's for Kanae to figure out. Hinami, though, knows how to be patient if things don't work. She knows how to minimize the damage and push forward. She is a pacifist. That is her strength. That is her weakness. 

Kaneki is her brother, too.

 

**f.**

Shuu is writing in a notebook when Kanae comes into his office. Shuu looks up, blinking owlishly. What little colour he gained in the summer and early autumn is already gone from his skin.

"Hinami is planning something."

Kanae doesn't say it to tattle. He says it because it's true. Shuu needs to know. He is the head of the family. The household runs much less formally and with very little of the rigidity of structure that it was when Asahi and Kamiko were in charge. It's better that way, and Kanae does not miss what their lives were like before. But if Shuu is going to be in charge, he needs to know what happens under his own roof.

Shuu looks back down at his notebook. He begins writing again.

"I know," he says into the muffler he's wearing to keep warm. "I like how you've done your eyes."

"Oh," Kanae says. "Thank you."

Kanae sits down on the couch. He tucks his knees up against his chest. Rests his chin on them. He listens to Shuu's mechanical pencil scratching away in his notebook. Kanae resists the urge to bite his lip or his nails. It would smear his lipstick.

"Did she tell you what it is?"

A click to eject more lead. "No."

Kanae starts to clench his teeth. Forces himself to stop. He counts to ten, very slowly. He drums his fingers below his knees.

"It's like," he says, because he's annoyed and if he holds it in, too, then that'll make his next statement entirely hypocritical, "we all have a disease. We tell each other everything except for what's important."

Shuu stops writing. Kanae looks over to him. Shuu's eyes are shut. If this had been a year ago, Kanae wouldn't have dared say something like that to him. Shuu was too fragile then, physically, mentally, emotionally. He reminded Kanae of the sea, which he'd glimpsed sometimes out of the portholes in the ships he'd travelled on. Some days, the waves were predictable, rising and falling into each other. Other days, the sky was made of torrential sheets of rain that the sea heaved and swallowed and spat back. Now, Shuu is still like the ocean, but it's different. He's not so much the waves but the water. The ocean will never dry up.

Shuu opens his eyes. He motions in a sweeping motion. The walls, ceiling, floor.

"This place," Shuu says, "is built on such things."

Kanae clenches his teeth. His hands against his legs. Shuu lets his hands fall back to his lap. He sits against the back of the chair. Resigned.

Kanae would do anything for Shuu. Shuu would do anything for his family. The people he loves. The people who stayed. 

They can choose each other.

Kanae swallows.

"All I wanted," he says, his greatest secret, "was to stay by your side."

Shuu looks at him. He's listening. Kanae knows this is his only chance.

"I don't care about revenge," he says because he knows that Shuu has been thinking about that, at least ever since Ichinose Makoto's birthday. "That family is dead. I loved them, but they died, and so did the life I had with them. That's what this world is like. 

"This place," and Kanae can feel himself fragmenting, racing ahead, burning up, "this is my home. My family lives here. I don't care about being raised a servant. I don't care about marriage or independence or finding love and happiness or anything like that. I don't need to find those things. I've had them since I was nine and I met you. I don't need anything else. I don't need you to love me like you love Sasaki or Kaneki or whoever the hell he is. I don't care about that. I _don't_ care."

It's quiet. Kanae is breathing hard. The sound fills the room. Slowly, Shuu stands up. He rounds the desk. He stops in front of it. His hands at his sides. Kanae looks up at him. Shuu looks back.

"I don't," Kanae repeats, very softly.

Shuu gazes at him. His eyes are dull. Dark. Very, very sad.

"I do," he says, even softer. "I want you to be happy."

Kanae breathes in. Deep. He squeezes his fingers so hard on his legs it hurts.

"Have you considered," he asks, "that perhaps I am happy being right here?"

Shuu stares. He hadn't. Kanae can't blame him. Shuu is not happy. He does not want to be here. This world is not the one that he wanted to be a part of. That is why he loves Kaneki Ken. Sasaki Haise. Whoever that foolish creature is. That person is a taste, the only taste that Shuu has had of the freedom that is patently denied of him. 

Kanae, like everything in this world, is selfish. He wants to keep Shuu here. With him. By his side. That is Kanae's greatest secret. It is his selfish wish. Shuu knows this now. Kanae, no matter what happens, refuses to regret it.

"No," Shuu says. "But I will consider it in the future."

Kanae nods. He smiles, very watery. He cannot let himself cry and disturb his make-up.

At the desk, Shuu smiles back. It reaches his eyes.

 

**xi.**

There's a folk song Hinami's father used to sing.

    The moon, has come out,  
Oh, the moon is out, heave ho  
Over our coal pit has the moon come out.  
The chimney is so high,  
I wonder if the moon chokes on the smoke  
Heave Ho!

He would sing these sorts of songs when Hinami couldn't sleep at night because she was hungry or frightened. Often hunger and fear went hand in hand. Her father was not a particularly good hunter, and they were always living on the edge. Her mother was better around other humans and ghouls, but she was fearful. With good reason, of course. None of the family were particularly strong. They were careful, moral, and that is what let them survive for as long as they did.

Hinami is quite sure that her parents would not be proud of the person she has grown to be. She is not kind, not in the manner they would have appreciated. She is not sweet. She has grown to be strong and serious. She knows how to be beautiful. Most of the time, she doesn't want to be, but it is sometimes necessary. The world that she lives in, that she calls her own: it is beautiful. That is its greatest asset.

They are dressing Shuu in furisode, a winter scene with arched bridges and ponds, when the call comes. Shuu's arms are extended, so he cannot pick up his own phone. Matsumae is busy with the obi and Hinami is on her knees adjusting the fuki. Kanae picks up.

"I'm sorry, Washuu-san," Kanae says, very bland, "Tsukiyama-sama cannot answer the phone at the moment. May I convey your message?"

There's a brief pause. Kanae's eyes widen. He looks up at the ceiling, eyes flickering back and forth. Hinami stops, watching the way that Kanae's free hand twitches. 

"My apologies, Washuu-sama. I did not recognise your voice."

Shuu looks over. Matsumae pauses as well. It's very rare that Washuu Tsuneyoshi contacts anyone in the strange quadrant of families that fund and supply the CCG. It's likely because Tsuneyoshi has the least leeway of all of the families. Hinami wonders if he's even fully human, if perhaps the abyss goes that deep. Washuu Yoshitoki and Matsuri are fully human, but these families survive through adoption and deception. Tsuneyoshi is very old.

"Yes, he is in the room," Kanae says, and he curls his finger in on themselves, trying very hard to keep his voice level. "I can put you on speaker."

Kanae shifts his hold on the phone. Thumbs over the screen. There's a short pause. Matsumae begins to work on the obi again.

"Tsukiyama-san," an old, level voice filters out, "I apologise for the abrupt call."

Shuu eyes the phone. He doesn't have to force himself to smile, doesn't have to physically display the person he becomes in business. He looks just as tired as he ever did in the worst of his illness. When he speaks, though, he sounds pleasant. Warm.

"It is no issue, Washuu-san. You would not call if it was not urgent."

A deep hum. Hinami stands up slowly, reaching up to straighten the tomoeri. She catches Kanae's eye. He looks deeply apprehensive.

"Yes," Washuu says. "The Ghoul Auction operation was carried out last night."

Shuu blinks. "I take it," he says, still pleasant but less warm, "that results were less than optimal."

"Hm," Washuu says, which is as foreboding a sounds as Hinami has ever heard. "You have not seen the news yet."

Kanae raises his eyebrows at Hinami meaningfully. She moves to the vanity where Shuu's tablet is, tapping it on. She pulls up the browser and types in CCG. The immediate results answer everything even as Washuu fills them in.

"Sasaki Haise went rouge."

Shuu, inexplicably, laughs. Hinami looks up. Shuu is smiling. It's a ghastly expression, especially because he has no colour this morning. He doesn't laugh more than one far too bright giggle. He breathes in, short. He's in danger of coughing. 

"You should have listened to my original recommendation, Washuu-san."

There's a snort on the other end of the line. Hinami wants to smack the phone out of Kanae's hand. Instead, she looks back at the tablet. At the hundred of news articles. Sasaki, identified to the public as Centipede, apparently rampaged through the Auction, escaped the containment area, and had to be subdued in a public area. There are many civilian witnesses. The CCG is trying to spin it that the Centipede was attending the Auction. It will probably stick, but the damage is done. The Quinx Programme is more than likely to be dubbed a failure.

"Perhaps," Washuu says, and it sounds like he's smiling. "You've gotten what you wanted."

Shuu grimaces. He forces himself to stop, though, so that he can respond in a calm, leisurely tone. Just the sound of it makes Hinami's stomach roll.

"Perhaps," Shuu echoes.

Hinami sets the tablet down. She is about to throw up.

"The body was recovered alive," Washuu says, all business now. "We have been able to contain it on Level Four in the Detention Centre, but it's not much use to us here. The Quinx Programme will have to be put on hold indefinitely."

Hinami walks over to the bathroom. She opens the door and stands at the sink. The face that looks back at her is ghostly, wide-eyed and shattered. Behind her, Shuu hums. A soft, sweet sound.

"People have escaped from the Detention Centre in the past."

It's too much. Too much. Hinami puts her face in her hands. Leans her elbows on the sides of the sink. It's too close. She wouldn't be able to block it out even if she covered her ears.

Washuu snorts again. "You always were an astute one under that act of obfuscating stupidity," he says, dryly, before breathing in, audible even over the phone. "I would like to request a favour."

Hinami looks back. She can't help herself. Matsumae has finished Shuu's obi and has started on his hair. Kanae stands with the phone held lightly in hand. If not for the dead look of Shuu's face and the clear panic on Kanae's, it would seem like this was normal. In a lot of ways it is. Hinami herself, despite her nausea, is not surprised. She knows what Shuu is going to say.

"Ask."

 

**0.**

The winter sun gives no warmth to his skin.

Next to him, Bunko glances over. She's dressed in furisode as well, although it's entirely black. They're alone together, two plates with each a singular piece of ghoul wagashi on the table. Coffee has gone cold in porcelain cups older than both of them. 

"Reminds of when we were kids," she says.

It does. They would sit for hours like this. It wasn't because they chose to. It was to teach them discipline of posture and poise. It was, with the food and coffee between them, to teach restraint. Self-control was the greatest god in their households.

"Are you going to take him in?"

Shuu looks across the Minamoto estate's gardens. They're uniform and manicured in a completely different way than the Tsukiyama estate. It reflects how Bunko's eyesight is so bad that she has to memorise where everything is and what colour it is to make sure she doesn't accidentally embarrass herself in her own home. There are rows of the same flowers and plants, and the stones that divide them are all the same as well. It's beautiful in a surreal way.

"Yes."

Bunko chuckles. She flicks a bit of lint off of her right thigh. It's the first movement either of them have made in over an hour.

"What's your little girl and my poor fiancé's thoughts on that?"

Hinami and Kanae have stayed back at the estate. They're probably either in the library or in the sitting room together. Kanae might try to garden, if it doesn't rain. He'll take Hinami with him. Shuu can trust them to look out for each other.

"I don't know," Shuu says, and he lets himself look up at the sky, at the overcast light and clouds. "They will tell me when I return home tonight."

"Will they," Bunko muses before chuckling again. "How nice."

It's not mean. Bunko is not a mean person. Shuu doesn't know if anyone else understands this. Bunko is cruel and selfish, but so is Shuu. They have to be, and, if they weren't, they wouldn't have been allowed to live. They would likely have been tasked with killing each other, just so that the older generations could get a bit of sport out of it. Life is cheap.

"So what are you going to do," Bunko asks, and she asks because she's curious, "store Sasaki-san in the basement? Drill him into the floor?"

"No."

He realises his mistake as the word leaves his mouth. It's too immediate a response, too real. Bunko laughs fully, slapping her thigh.

"Lovesick, loveable rouge," she jeers with a smile that shows all her teeth. "If he forgives you for this, he's a fool."

Shuu doesn't look to her. He watches the clouds. They're shades of grey, barely any white in them. Winter is going to be harsh this year. Shuu is cold.

"I'm the one to blame." 

He can say these things because, in the end, they don't mean anything. Not in this world, where he exists to trade favours for survival, money for morals. It's the way the world has always worked even with the Clowns and now Aogiri Tree running around. The Tsukiyama, the Minamoto, the Ichinose, the Washuu: they have survived much more.

Next to him, Bunko hums, filling in the melody to that song.

"You're here to impress."

 

**xii.**

Hinami finds Matsumae sorting through the laundry. It's Thursday. They send away dry cleaning on Friday for retun on Monday. Usually Kanae sorts the laundry, but Kanae is currently in his room. Hinami doesn't blame him for needing some time for himself.

"Matsumae?"

She looks up. Raises an eyebrow. Hinami steps into the laundry room. Swallows.

"May I talk to you?"

Matsumae blinks. She sets the socks she had in hand down. She nods back towards the door. 

"Somewhere with better air."

Hinami follows her out into the hall. Matsumae takes them past the kitchen, the half-bath, the media room. She stops and opens the door to the music room. It's one of the largest rooms in the house, and the most spacious aside from the main reception area. Matsumae takes a couple of chairs from against the wall, turning them to face each other. She sits down in one. Hinami sits in the other.

"Yes?"

Hinami looks to her. Matsumae's expression is bland. Patient. Hinami knows that Matsumae hadn't viewed Hinami as a permanent member of the family until Shuu forced the point. Since then, Matsumae has treated Hinami the same as she treats Kanae: respectfully. She offers guidance only when needed and defers to their choices. The only person that Hinami suspects Matsumae truly cares for is Shuu. To her, Shuu is her head of house, but he is also like a son. 

"What," Hinami starts, and it sticks at first but she pushes on, "is it that is expected of me in this world?"

Matsumae blinks. Sighs. It's a soft, slow breath through the nose. She gazes at Hinami. It looks almost sad.

"Nothing," she says. "And everything."

Hinami nods. She looks down at her lap. She had expected that. Class, power, aesthetic, money: that is what this world is made of. Things that people want. Things that people desire. All the doors that were shut to her when her parents were alive. She lives were these things ooze out of the floor.

"It's about what I want."

Matsumae nods. She smiles, a small, unadorned thing. It strikes Hinami that Matsumae doesn't hate anyone. She is not driven by that. No one in this household is.

They do everything, despite themselves, for love.

Hinami smiles, a real one. It doesn't hurt her cheeks.

"Thank you."

Matsumae inclines her head. "You're welcome."

 

**g.**

It has been arranged that Shuu will negotiate the transfer of Sasaki Haise from the Ghoul Detention Centre to the Tsukiyama estate on Saturday. Hinami has asked to go with Shuu, and permission has been granted. It means revealing Hinami as a ghoul to Washuu Tsuneyoshi and whoever else is needed to be privy to override the technology in the CCG buildings that sense ghouls.

"This is what I want," Hinami had said when this came up, and Shuu had accepted that.

Selfishly, Kanae wishes he hadn't. Kanae has absolutely no desire to ever be made known to the CCG as a ghoul. It is a holdover of how his family died. Even if the Tsukiyama family far too well-connected to simply massacre, the thought of any government body having any chance of control over Kanae makes his skin crawl. It's why he accepted Bunko's engagement ring. If he's believed to be a human, temperamental and slavish, desperate to stay part of a wealthy lifestyle, then that's what he will be. He has no desire to die.

Sometimes, though, Kanae wonders if Shuu wishes that he was dead. He suspects that Hinami has moments of it. They both get this odd expression on occasion, like nothing at all will ever repair what has gone wrong. In those moments, Kanae often can't immediately see what is wrong, has to read inbetween the lines and hope that his interpretation is close enough. There's something that happened to both of them, that broke them in a similar way. 

Therefore, it is Kanae's job to keep them from dying. He needs to keep them from going too far. They both have a self-sacrificing streak, which some might view as noble but Kanae thinks is truly stupid. It's the only part of either of them that is stupid, no matter what Shuu has been led to believe or how uneducated Hinami perceives herself. Shuu took Hinami in, and now Kanae knows why: they're very similar at heart.

Kanae walks out with Matsumae, Hinami, and Shuu to the car. He isn't going with them, and Matsumae will only be driving. She'll go run errands in Tokyo while Hinami and Shuu are at the Ghoul Detention Centre and then pick them up from the CCG headquarters. If anything goes wrong, Kanae will be here for Matsumae to call. Kanae will call Bunko, and Bunko will call Shuichi. Everyone knows how this works, and the Washuu and the CCG cannot afford yet another scandal.

Still, Kanae cannot help but worry. He knows it shows. It earns him a soft look from all three of them. It allows him the courage to say what he wishes aloud.

"Come back."

Shuu reaches out. Touches Kanae's cheek. A reassurance. A promise. 

"We will."

That is all Kanae needs.

 

**xiii.**

The Ghoul Detention Centre is an ugly place. It's considered by many to be a blight on the landscape. A tall tower with a sharp drop. It reminds Hinami of a dank, deep cave.

"Sorry for the wait."

Hinami inclines her head. They're in the sole visitor booth. It's purpose, as Hinami understands it, is to allow human partners of ghouls one last visit before their fates are decided. Humans who harbour ghouls knowingly are usually sentenced to life or to death if they are found to be complicit in the feeding and upkeep of the ghoul. Once in a while, a human is able to prove they had no idea their partner was a ghoul. This booth was designed to allow closure.

Shuu smiles, soft, sweet, and very, very sincere. "It is no trouble."

Washuu Yoshitoki sighs. He has his arms crossed. He's looking into the empty half of the booth where Sasaki (or will it be Kaneki?) will be brought. He isn't seeing the booth, though. He's looking at Shuu's image, reflected in the glass.

"I shouldn't say this," Washuu says, very low, "but you don't have to do this for us."

Shuu shifts his gaze fully to Washuu. It draws Washuu's gaze off the glass. Shuu stands with his hands at his side. His gaze is gentle and knowing. Hinami resists the urge to smile as well. It would be an unkind expression.

"Don't worry, Washuu-san," Shuu murmurs. "I won't die."

Washuu looks down. His expression is strained and grave. Sumire died at twenty-seven to keep all these secrets. For once, Hinami feels some sympathy for Washuu. He loved her dearly.

There's a beep overhead. Washuu looks up, all emotions wiped from his face. He nods to the camera on the opposite wall. There's long buzzing sound before the door on the other side of the visitor booth opens. Two armed guards drag in Sasaki. He has a RC cell depressor collar on and is in chains. Despite herself, Hinami feels all of her recoil against the sight.

"It's standard procedure," Washuu says, and Hinami irrationally despises him again.

They hook the ends of the chains to rings in the wall. Sasaki hasn't lifted his head yet. It lolls awkwardly on his neck, jostling the collar. Hinami bites her lip. She wonders how high a dose he's on. 

"How interesting," Shuu says, calm and placid. "Are those chains quinque steel, too?"

Washuu nods. "Of course. It may be possible for a ghoul to eat them, but we have never had an incident of that."

"Perhaps you should feed it to a few," Shuu says. "See what happens."

Washuu laughs. It's very loud in the enclosed space. He stops fairly quickly, clearly a little surprised at himself. Shuu smiles the slightly mischievous smile that means he's really upset. Washuu smiles back, looking abashed. It makes him look almost a decade younger. Hinami wonders wildly if this is the relationship Washuu had with Shuu's mother. She promptly wants to bleach the thought from her brain.

They stand there for a long moment. The guards move back to stand by the door on the end of the glass. Sasaki kneels on the ground, head lolling. He seems completely unaware. Shuu tilts his head slightly.

"Is this normal?"

Washuu frowns slightly. He steps forward and taps on the glass. It makes Sasaki twitch, but he doesn't react further. Washuu's frown deepens.

"No," he says. "His dosage is probably too high."

Hinami's stomach rolls. Shuu hums lightly. He steps forward as well, taking a seat on the single chair. It's centred in front of the glass. Shuu folds his hands in his lap. Very politely. Waiting.

"Then it is fortunate we have an hour before we must meet with Tsuneyoshi-san," Shuu says.

He turns his head back just enough to catch Hinami's eye. Hinami takes a deep breath. She steps forward. Right foot. Left foot. It's really only three paces until she's standing at Shuu's back. Their side of the room is small. No one is worried about them attempting to escape.

"What do you think?" Shuu asks.

It is an honest question. Hinami looks at Sasaki. He's looking down, but he seems to be blinking a bit more frequently. Perhaps the change in atmosphere is making him try to reorientate himself. He's dressed in the clothing of prisoners, white and drab. He's clean, and his hair is messy but not tangled. There are dark shadows under his eyes. He looks like a ghost.

"Washuu-san."

Washuu looks at her, a faint flash of surprise in his eyes. It's the first time she's addressed him. Hinami knows that she cannot hide her fear completely. She does not need to.

"What was his name?"

It draws a curious look from Washuu. He glances at the slumped figure behind the glass and then back to Hinami. He pays such good attention to who is speaking, who is asking what. He will be, Hinami thinks, a very astute head of the Washuu family one day.

"We called him Eyepatch and Centipede before we knew he was one ghoul. His name used to be Kaneki Ken."

On the other side of the glass, Kaneki opens his eyes.

 

**0.**

"Ah," Washuu says, "he's awake."

Kaneki gazes at him. He knows this man. Or, rather, Sasaki knows this man. Washuu Yoshitoki is a good leader. He doesn't take unnecessary risks, and he is not cruel or temperamental. He is not flashy, and he doesn't seek glory or acknowledgement. He listens and has compassion. He knows how to make hard decisions.

"Sasaki-san."

Tsukiyama Shuu is sitting in a chair. There are two competing images. The most recent matches the person in the chair. Long hair, pale skin, strange red, red eyes. He's dressed in a finely tailored dark grey suit with only a lavender tie to give colour accent. He looks out of place in such sterile surroundings. 

The other image, faded out and distorted: a blood-soaked terror, bursting out through the Scrapper. It morphs into another image, a stolen glance at how he stretched. Arms up above his head, extending the well-developed muscles that supported a koukaku kagune used like a sword or a lance. A knight. A dagger. The two images look almost nothing alike.

"Do you know me?"

Kaneki swallows. "No," he says because he doesn't.

It makes Tsukiyama tilt his head slightly. Kaneki had thought it make him look like a bird, and he only did it when he was curious or confused. Sasaki had thought the motion was endearing, a very lovely unconscious tick that occurred when he was thinking. Now, here, it is a telegram that anyone can interpret but no one can read.

"My name is Tsukiyama Shuu," he says, and he smiles, soft, sweet, and very, very sad. "We exchanged letters for a while."

Those letters: they made Sasaki so happy. They were a comfort, a balm, a handful of moments where Sasaki felt like a human being. But then he'd gone and ruined it. He'd gambled and lost. Lost everything. Tsukiyama is a ghoul. Kaneki had always known that and had known to be cautious. But Kaneki was too cautious. He kept Tsukiyama at arms length until there was nothing else. A pyrrhic victory.

"We did."

Tsukiyama smiles. He looks to his side. Fueguchi Hinami. The name makes Kaneki think of a girl, sweet and full of smiles. She was a girl that he watched grow from a shy, fearful child into someone who was just beginning to become an adult. He'd read her books and taught her kanji. That girl he held and protected and left to save. 

The person that is by Tsukiyama's side is someone only Sasaki recognises. She is a lady, well-shaped and smooth-cheeked. She brightens the room with her smile, and her eyes are observant and very, very clear. She's obviously trusted and adored by Tsukiyama. Even now she wears diamond stud earring that glint in the electric lighting. 

"We have missed conversing with you."

Her voice is gentle and very soothing. She is not nervous at all. That they are here, treated as humans even in this place that's full of technology that should sense what they are: Washuu must know. If Washuu knows, that means everyone above him likely does. Perhaps even Arima knows. It makes Sasaki want to cry. It makes Kaneki want to scream. Instead, he just stares.

Hinami blinks at him. It is an expression that anyone else would interpret as concern. Kaneki knows what her concern really looks like. It's not this. How long ago did she choose to be by Tsukiyama's side?

"Is this normal, Washuu-san?"

Washuu makes a contemplative noise. Kaneki wants to look over, but Sasaki can't look away from Tsukiyama. Both of them.

"For the amount of RC suppressors, yes. It makes almost every ghoul a little slow."

Tsukiyama hums. He reaches up to brush a few strands of hair out of his face. His hands, both Kaneki and Sasaki know, are scarred. Kaneki had always assumed it was simply due to being a ghoul. Sasaki knows better. Ghouls don't scar. Not unless they're not allowed to adequately heal.

"He's not," Tsukiyama murmurs, "much use like this."

He's acting. This sort of behaviour does not match the real Tsukiyama Shuu, the one that Kaneki and Sasaki both thought they knew. Tsukiyama is passionate and intense. This Tsukiyama is not Kaneki's. He never was Sasaki's. This strange person, so aesthetically pleasing and bewitching: they don't know this person at all.

"It should wear off gradually," Washuu says, a familiar, reassuring tone; he knows whoever it is that Tsukiyama is letting live in his skin. "He'll be lucid for the meeting."

"If not," Hinami says, soft and more than a little uncomfortable, "you could feed him?"

It makes Washuu laugh, a merry sound. "Well, yes, if you do not find that too distasteful."

Hinami smiles. Bright, brilliant, and so, so beguiling. It's no longer innocent. She's lost that. She's not that little girl. Tsukiyama has taken her, and she has moulded herself into something new. Something that was probably necessary, if she was to survive the contrived, bitter world that the Tsukiyama own. 

But still -

"I don't," and his voice is slurred, cracked, "hate you."

Tsukiyama smiles. It looks odd on his face. It's like, Sasaki remembers, that time he fainted on the ryokan floor. Across the glass, with the RC depressor collar and chains, Kaneki gazes at him. Or Sasaki. Or neither. Both Kaneki and Sasaki are dead. In a lot of ways, this is a new person. 

"It would be easier if you did," Tsukiyama says, and it is the truth. "But it makes me happy that you don't."

 

**xiv.**

Washuu Tsuneyoshi's office is massive.

It's massive in a manner that Hinami finds excessive. Most of the room has no furnishings. The tiles shine from being polished so well. So much space with no purpose except to be intimidating. At least the Tsukiyama estate is a utilised space. It is large, and much of it is not used everyday, but there is a purpose to every nook and cranny. This office, in Hinami's opinion, just feels wasteful.

"Hm," Washuu Yoshitoki says. "This set-up is unpleasant."

It's something of an understatement. Arima Kishou and Mado Akira are seated to the left of Tsuneyoshi's desk. They're reading over the briefing documents, identical grave expressions on their faces. Hinami and Shuu are seated to the right with Yoshitoki. Sasaki has just been bolted into the floor in front of the desk, the chains shorted to the point he has to hunch when seated. It breaks his attempt at seiza.

"It should not be necessary for long," Tsuneyoshi says. "We don't have too much further to discuss."

They don't. A lot of the arrangements to move Sasaki to the Tsukiyama estate, at least until the hubbub of the political and media scandal of the Auction Raid is over, have already been worked out over the phone. This is more of a formality to inform Arima and Mado, who have been in charge of Sasaki's care and keeping, and Sasaki himself of where he will be going. 

"This is," Tsuneyoshi says, "to stall for time. It would be such a waste for the entire Quinx Programme to be scrapped."

It would also be very troublesome. What would be done with the Quinx themselves? It would be easy to make just Sasaki disappear. It is less easy to make five people disappear and expect everyone who knew them to stay completely quiet. It doesn't help that their existence already makes them extremely visible.

"Is it going to be scrapped?"

It's Sasaki. Or Kaneki. From the look in his eyes, it's some combination of both. His voice is rough and choked, but his diction is clear. Hinami is privately glad for it. It was very bizarre to see him so completely unaware back at the Detention Centre. 

"In its current form," Shuu says, and it makes all eyes turn to him and the cold, bland tone, "I will not fund it."

It's very quiet. This, Hinami thinks, cannot come as a surprise. Shuu has always iterated the opinion that he disapproves of the entire endeavour. At the desk, Tsuneyoshi snorts.

"Asahi always underestimated you."

Shuu smiles. It is so very beautiful. Hinami knows it's the falsest thing Shuu owns. It's also his most lethal weapon. Behind the desk, Tsuneyoshi inclines his head.

"Thank you, Tsukiyama-sama," Tsuneyoshi says. "You are doing us a great favour."

Arima is looking forward, to the back wall. Mado has her jaw clenched so tightly she may crack a tooth. Kaneki remains bowed. Hands clenched.

"A Tsukiyama never turns down a favour asked."

Tsuneyoshi smiles. His teeth are blunt and show their age. His eyes are sharp and clear.

"I look forward to doing business with you in the future."

Shuu smiles. Soft, sweet, and very, very sincere. 

"I as well."

They all stand up. Bow. Shuu offers Hinami his hand. She takes it, and they cross the long office. Through the doors. They take the elevator back down, coming out into the visitor lobby. Pass under the scanners that don't react. A few Doves glance at them as they pass before going back to their work. Unknowing. Uncomprehending.

They step outside to wait for Matsumae to bring the car around.

"Hinami."

Shuu looks down at her. Calm. Hinami smiles. Real. With all her heart.

They've brought Kaneki home.

No matter what happens, Hinami is not sorry that it has come to this.

 

**0.**

"Kanae."

Kanae tilts his head up. He is tying Shuu's shoes. Shuu's wound is paining him today, so bending down is out of the question. Kanae kneels at his feet. He's sitting at the vanity, back to the window. Kanae's bangs are swept to the side and pinned up out of his face. They don't have any company aside from family today.

"Did you sleep last night?"

Kanae grimaces. He looks down again, finishing the laces on the left boot. He reaches to the side to pick up the right.

"Not really," he says, bringing the boot next to Shuu's sock-covered foot.

Shuu lifts his foot. Kanae holds the boot flaps open for him to slip through. Shuu sets his foot back down. Kanae rolls the pants leg down, folding the fabric at the end neatly to tuck into the boot.

"Did you dream?"

A soft sigh. Kanae begins pulling the laces through the metal holes. He does so deftly.

"A little," he says, very low. 

"What about?"

Kanae tugs the laces. The flaps tighten. He looks up as he ties them into a bow.

"The past."

He stands up. Reaches out. Shuu takes his hand, pushing himself up with a hand on the vanity's table. There's a crunching of gravel, just beyond the main entrance on the south wall. The Doves are here to deliver Sasaki. Kaneki. Whoever now lives in that body. Shuu and Kanae will not be there to greet them. Shuu has no desire to see Kaneki in muzzled and in chains or to see Sasaki's betrayed, conflicted gaze. He does not want an audience if it is the new person. Kanae simply wouldn't be able to suppress his gloating. Neither of them would be welcome. None of the Washuu are there, so Shuu's presence isn't necessary.

"Perhaps," Shuu says, causing Kanae to look up at him, eyebrows slightly raised, "it is a naïve wish, but I want everyone to be happy."

Kanae smiles. Full and real and very, very loving. He still has Shuu's hand in his own. They walk like that, out of Shuu's rooms, into the hallway.

"Right now," he says, "I am happy."

It makes Shuu smile. Kanae laughs. They pass through the kitchen. Matsumae nods to them from where she's notating the contents of the coffee cabinet. Hinami is handling the exchange. Kanae lets go of Shuu's hand to open the northern door. They step down the short stairs, Kanae slightly ahead. The air is brisk, the wind carrying scents of the car that's pulling away, Kaneki and Hinami moving up to the main house. It's quiet. Shuu tilts his head up, observing the clouds. They're wispy and faint, rolling into each other. Untroubled.

This, Shuu thinks, is good.

 

**xv.**

Kaneki sets down his bag next to the bed. Hinami stands in the doorway to the room. Kaneki looks out the window. It faces the mountains that border the north and west of the estate, tall masses of autumnal colours and evergreens.

"Kaneki-niisan."

He turns to her. He looks tired. Worn. Lost. The RC cell depressor collar has left bruises on his neck. They will fade now that it has been removed, but it is still very ugly. Hinami wants nothing more to reach out, but she knows that she wouldn't be welcome. He's come on his own free will, but that doesn't change that it is either here in this unchanging, unmovable estate or Cochlea. A prisoner of circumstance.

"Would you like some coffee?"

He looks down. Tatami. He looks up. To the window. Hinami can hear Shuu and Kanae walking. It's about the time of the day that Kanae usually checks over and weeds the garden. As winter comes in, there's not much for him to do, so the two of them walk up on this north side of the estate to view the mountains. Hinami can't see them yet, but she can hear Kanae singing. It's a lilting folk tune in Bavarian.

Kaneki moves towards the window. Hinami steps forward to join him. The first snow hasn't yet come, so the mountains beyond the estate walls are green and lush. She can see Shuu and Kanae making a leisurely measure of the path. Kanae is wearing an outfit that can only be from Bunko. It's made up of long swatches of black fabric and gives him the appearance of black water. Shuu is bundled up in a grey wool overcoat with a white fluffy scarf. As they watch, Kanae and Shuu stop by the two benches that view the mountains. Kanae stops singing. He points at something beyond the wall. Shuu follows the motion. They speak to each other in so low that Hinami cannot hear.

"I don't," Kaneki starts, and his voice is rough, low, and tired, "understand."

Hinami looks to at him. He's taller than she remembers, but so is she. Their height difference isn't so noticeable. 

"What don't you understand?"

Outside, Kanae has started singing again. It's something Italian and very pleasant. Shuu must have requested it, and Kanae will never turn Shuu down. It makes Kaneki look out the window again. Hinami watches the way his brows furrow. Uncertain. Lost.

"This world," he says. "It's beautiful."

Kaneki looks back out the window. Hinami looks out, too. Kanae stands, hands clasped over his diaphragm. He sings to Shuu. Shuu watches him, hands at his sides. At ease.

Hinami smiles. Softly. Gently. Above them, the sun is already setting. The moon will soon crest over horizon. 

"It is," she says, "isn't it?"

Beyond them, beyond the walls, the mountains rise.


End file.
